


you’re my wildfire (every single night)

by atlas_oulast



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alana Beck Has ADHD, Angst and Humor, Anxiety, Camping, Canon Compliant, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Fuck Evan Hansen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jared Kleinman Is a Good Friend, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Canon, References to Depression, Summer Camp, Summer Romance, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Walks In The Woods, alana-centric, i mean it’s got plot but like... plot is a loose term here, no beta we die like men, sky lakota lynch!jared, the unholy trinity basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27044395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlas_oulast/pseuds/atlas_oulast
Summary: The summer after the Connor Project, Alana and Jared happen to be counselors at the same summer camp. Alana can’t seem to get rid of Jared, and Jared can’t seem to stay away from Alana.
Relationships: Alana Beck & Evan Hansen, Alana Beck & Jared Kleinman, Alana Beck/Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman (One-sided)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 21





	1. close up, let me back

**Author's Note:**

> title from empire by shakira, as are all chapter titles.
> 
> this is actually from a writing rq i got on tumblr ages ago from @little-mx-mallory, the prompt was for arranged marriage and summer camp, and i only kinda delivered on the first one... still a fun fic. my tumblr happens to be @team-zoey-has-two-hands so ayyyy hmu 👉👈
> 
> listen y’all, this was originally gonna be a fucking 15k long oneshot.... I HAVE 50K. it’s all written and im desperate to get it out after taking so long on it, so ill update once or twice a week. thank you, now read my fic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of parental neglect

“Well, it’s a small world, isn’t it?” 

It was the middle of July, Alana Beck was tired but too tired to do anything else with her summer, and so she was here, at Camp Possum Run, a counselor for the Raccoon Cabin (a bunch of screamy seven year old girls, if you were wondering.)

And here was Jared Kleinman, also wearing a green counselor shirt, a flowery Hawaiian print shirt worn unbuttoned on top of it, and a green Alligator Cabin slap bracelet on his wrist. 

Just what she needed on her nice, relaxing summer counselorship at Camp Possum Run... being the counselor for seven year old girls. Relaxing wasn’t exactly in the job description...

“Must be... Jared, yeah?”

“You act like you don’t know me, for some reason,” Jared said, half joking, a small smile on his face as he wiped sweat from his brow. He was in knee length cargo shorts and blue socks with penguins on them up to his ankles, and plus, the Hawaiian print shirt over his Camp Possum Run shirt, and it was... a fucking look, honestly. 

But she wasn’t sure if she _was_ joking... she sure did know Jared. Thanks to Evan Hansen and his bitch ass lies, anyway. But she’d just collaborated with him on some projects for the... project. Alana hadn’t actually gotten to _know_ know the poor dude. 

And for what it was worth... she wished she had gotten to know him. But she was stressed and carrying the entire goddamn project on her shoulders, and wasn’t exactly socializing with Jared past desperately asking him to do one tiny little thing that didn’t actually help her, but made them both feel better. 

And also for what it was worth.... she wasn’t exactly _annoyed_ by his presence. But it was a reminder of why she wore a purple bandana around her right wrist, and her goddamn awful junior year of high school.

“Oh, trust me, I know you. Just... wow.”

“Yeah, right?” Jared wasn’t always the most observant person (she’d found out the hard way,) but he could read the room... and both of them had been fucking traumatized by Evan Hansen and the audacity of that bitch.

Some, more than others.

“So, what brings you to Camp Possum Run?” Alana asked, bouncing her knee a little on the rough picnic table bench she was sitting at. She was leaning up against the table, the edge of it pressing uncomfortably into her spine, and shifting didn’t do shit.

“The Alligator Cabin, obviously,” Jared said with a smirk, flashing his slap bracelet. “We’re here to kick everyone’s ass.”

“Which age group?” Alana asked with a small smile, fidgeting with one of her braids absentmindedly. 

“The seven year olds,” he grimaced. 

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re here to get _your_ ass kicked,” Alana said with a smile. 

He laughed awkwardly, and sat down next to her on the picnic table bench, because standing there in the mulch, the unbearably hot sun shining on his face when a picnic table under a tree was _right there_ was probably torture. She didn’t mind... nobody usually sat next to her who didn’t have to, so far be it from her to complain. 

The best way to describe how Alana felt right now was _fucking confused._ Jared was... part of the worst few months of her life. And she didn’t live in the same house as her parents, and she’d tried to stop existing. Multiple times. Fucking Evan Hansen had ruined more than her senior year of high school... he’d apparently also ruined Jared, a perfectly nice person, for her.

Even in his train wreck of an outfit that was kinda a look, and the reputation that followed him around like emoji snakes followed Taylor Swift... Jared was a nice dude. Nice looking, too, dark undertones on his dark brown skin, pretty brown eyes, a small smile that she’d seen wide, and it looked pretty goddamn good when he was actually smiling. His dark hair was short cropped but very, very nicely curly, even sweaty and stuck to his skin. And of course, those stupid brown glasses she loved to hate.

Like she had any room to talk... she had giant red Harry Potter glasses that covered half her face. 

She tried to convey that she was at ease, even if she wasn’t, leaning further back against the table, now on her elbows. He relaxed a little, resting his arm on the table and crossed his legs, facing her with the rest of his body turned like he was facing away, awkward. Just like him. How nice. 

Alana finally let her façade of okay-ness fade away... but fading probably wasn’t the best word for it, when she put her face into the rough, probably splintery wooden picnic table, and shrieked. 

Not _exactly_ subtle.

“Alana?” Jared asked, obviously concerned, tapping her shoulder. 

She groaned when she was done shrieking, and slowly lifted her face out of the table, flicking off random bits of whatever the hell was on her face, and stray braids out of her face. “I just... I don’t know how to talk to you.”

“Okay, believe me... neither do I. I’m just good at pretending everything’s perfectly fine. With jokes to go along with it!” Jared said with joking cheerfulness.

“I just... Evan Hansen fucked me up. A lot. And... you were fine. But... _Jesus!_ I don’t hate you... how could I, nobody ever talks to me and you’re willing to? but geez Louise, okay?” Alana was... okay, she was a little stressed. This wasn’t exactly the only thing she was doing this summer, she was doing a million internships in addition to this, and she was tired because she hadn’t slept in fucking forever and-

“Okay, so, is this a good stim, or a bad stim?” 

Oh. She was flapping her hands. Violently. She hadn’t known she was doing that.

“I guess... I mean, all stims are good stims, when you think about it?” Alana let the end of her sentence drift up, like a question, and she was.... good _grief_ she was socially awkward.

Usually, though, there was a lot less flailing involved.

“Are you autistic?” Alana asked, changing the subject somewhat away from her awkward flails. If she controlled the conversation, maybe she could calm down and stop being so awkward. 

Jared shrugged. “I mean, probably... you are, huh?”

“You think a neurotypical could be as high strung as me?”

“Clearly you haven’t met my mother,” Jared snorted.

“Are you sure she’s not autistic?” 

“No, she sits around all day doing literally nothing. Oy vey... we’re autistic.”

Alana smiled slowly. “Me? Recognizing that someone’s being sarcastic? You must jest.”

“I’m not kidding.”

Alana laughed a bit, now smiling for real. And goodness gracious- had she even smiled (for real; not a polite smile for the neighbors) since Evan? Or like... in the past two years, even?

Jared smiled too- and there, _there_ was that smile she liked. Warm, big, a little bit goofy and a little bit lopsided. Chock full of personality, which was more than she could say for herself.

“Okay, well, my parents don’t live in the same house as me... so I don’t really know if they’re autistic... that wasn’t sarcastic,” Alana said, still smiling a little. She didn’t usually tell people about her parents, but hey... her and Jared were vibing, as the kids said. 

“You’re kidding,” Jared said, looking at her like she had just told him that elephants were a spying device, masterminded by the Russian government. 

“I’m not! I live where you live, Pleasant Creek... yeah, they live in NYC. Four hours away.” Pleasant Creek was upstate New York, close ish to Buffalo, but not close enough to be a suburb or anything. 

“Good grief... do they love you?”

Alana laughed, bitterly, self deprecatingly. “Nah. They expect me to be something great for them to parade around later on, but they don’t actually like me... they haven’t lived in the same house as me since I was two. Once I was potty trained they moved me out here with my sister, Jana, and-“

“Okay, wait, time out. Her name’s Jana?”

Alana nodded slowly, confused. “Short for Johanna... why?”

Jared cringed. “That doesn’t make it any better! Jana and Alana.. what’s your middle name?”

“Rebekah. Hers is... Becca... oh. Okay.” It dawned on Alana then... okay, good grief, just another way her parents didn’t care. Joanna Becca... Alana Rebekah... _Beck_... yikes.

Jared winced. “You didn’t realize?”

“Just another way they’ve shown how much they care,” Alana said with a cringing smile. “But anyway... Jana was five and I was two, they moved us out here, we’ve had varying nannies over the years who would take care of us and then my parents would send her a check at the end of the month, and our grandmother was around occasionally. When Jana was sixteen they fired the last nanny, she took care of me until she was eighteen and then she got the fuck out... can’t say I blame her. And now my grandma’s dead.

“Where is Jana?”

Alana shrugged. “No clue. I haven’t spoken to her since... I don’t have her number.”

“Good grief, that sucks. So you just live... alone?”

“Yeah... I think my parents could get nailed for some sort of parental neglect, but... I don’t care that much. They pay the mortgage, I assume, because I haven’t gotten any notices about that, and they send me a check every month to make sure I don’t starve. They expect me to be something big and grand so they can announce to their friends that they have a daughter and isn’t she lovely?”

Jared looked... sympathetic. Alana hadn’t ever had anyone be _sympathetic_ towards her before, so it was a bit of a shock. Usually, she just annoyed people until they left her alone... or, in Evan’s case, annoyed him until he used her and milked her dry and then left her to rot with his empire on her shoulders.

Damn that motherfucker.

“Anyway... enough about Alana’s Depressing Home Life. Alligator Cabin, huh?”

Jared cringed. “Seven year old boys, Alana. _Seven year old boys._ ”

“Mine’s seven year old girls, Raccoon Cabin... not much better. Seven year olds are not nice people... that’s just how it is, even though I hate to say that about them... they have their cute moments.”

“Kids are cute... that’s why I became a counselor. And also because I kinda... decided not to go to the summer camp I was at last summer.”

“How come?”

“I dunno... just decided to do something productive rather than hang out with a bunch of other teenagers doing the same crap as always and making out with one Israeli chick... and I think being in charge of eight seven year old boys is pretty goddamn productive.”

“I’ll say. I’m always exhausted when I finally get into bed... thank god it’s Parent Day and we get a break.”

“Really, I think it should be called Counselor Appreciation Day... I am _so_ tired. It’s fun and all... but they have so much energy.”

“But once you take them on a hike, suddenly all that energy is gone and they’re so tiireedddd and hungryyyyy and they have to peeee.”

“At least you have boys... they can go pee in bushes. We get to walk all the way back to the cabin, and then we get back out, and Bella’s all ‘Alanaaaaa, I gotta pee!’ Drives me nuts.”

Jared smiled, and Alana returned the smile. Holy cow, she was _smiling_? That only happened once in a blue moon... and never when talking to anyone remotely involved with the Connor Project... even if it was just some poor shmuck who wanted to know if the orchard would ever happen.

It wouldn’t. She donated the money to _real_ mental health organizations and archived their website and quit posting on their social media.

But the questions never seemed to go away... for some reason they knew she had worked on the Connor Project, but Evan, the face of the damn thing, had said he was working on the project _alone_ when he went on fucking _Good Morning America_ to talk about the project and his viral speech. 

She had wanted to kill herself after that... she didn’t know why she didn’t quit right then, to be honest. Actually, she did know... her burning desire, no, _need_ to feel needed and useful and like she was making a difference and bringing people together.

“Anyway,” Alana said, half to herself to shoo out the horrible thoughts about the project and all it’s fuckery, “Are you staying in camp the whole summer, or are you on a two week term?”

Camp Possum Run had multiple types of programs you could do, a day camp option, a one week option, a two week option, a month options, and the whole summer. So there was a Parent’s Day every two weeks, when they came to pick up the two week campers because it was by far the most popular program, and it was the one time counselors like her who were working the whole summer got a fucking break.

“Whole summer... go big or go home, right?”

“Same... I’m so ready for my current crop of weekers to get out of here,” Alana complained. Usually she wouldn’t complain... but she felt like complaining would connect with Jared better than her usual fare of ‘Everything Is Just Fine And Dandy, And I Love Everything!’ “Like, they’re children, and cute children, but they’re _annoying_... like, especially annoying. Una, Ashley, Trisha... god, cute kids, hope they have great lives... never want to see them again?” 

Jared laughed. “I feel you. I have just one especially annoying kid right now, Jackson... he’s seven. Seven year olds are bitches and that’s just how it is.”

“Where would the world be without seven year olds?”

“Well, nine year olds would exist, because seven would not have eight nine.”

Alana had to laugh.

________________

Turns out, her new two week campers (Wendy, Tillie, and Yasmine) were slightly less annoying than her departing class, but still annoying, but what was she expecting? They were still seven year olds.

Good news was, the three were getting along with her other five campers right off the bat. Shannon, Sara, Jessi, Claudia, and Kristy were all overjoyed, as seven year olds tend to be, that there were new people (and Kristy and Jessi had hated, _hated_ ) Trisha, so the lack of tension in the cabin was certainly a plus).

Alana got the girls to each pick a bunk and work on getting their stuff in the provided cubbies, and then after that, stepped out into the porch to breathe for a second.

Generally, when she’d just gotten new cabin members, it helped to stop and breathe as soon as she could, remind herself that they were fucking _seven year olds,_ not demons, and damn it, she had signed her own ass up for this and she was going to get through it.

It was just pretty overwhelming when a new girl came in and Alana realized she had to take care of them for the next two weeks.

This job was weird, in that every time you thought you were rid of someone, it always found a way to throw you someone worse... even if you had initially thought that there was no way the new girls were worse, that they were perfect little angels. Yeah, no, no child was a perfect little angel.

What she didn’t expect was to see Jared walking down the mulch pathway connecting all the younger girl’s cabins, hands in his pockets, whistling a little.

“Are yours driving you insane, too?” Alana called out, quietly enough that none of her girls were going to bother coming out and checking who Mrs. Alana was talking to at this hour (eight pm), but juuust loud enough for her to reach him.

His face split into a smile when he saw her, and he walked over to her cabin, stopping at the base of the stairs up to the porch.

“Actually, quite the opposite... Tyler’s parents have ordered that the senior counsellors clean out the entire cabin and put it back together making sure there’s no drugs,” Jared said, smiling sarcastically. “So all of my kids are at the nature center with a few senior counselors to make sure that I’m not... influencing them or otherwise providing illegal substances.”

Alana winced. “So Tyler’s the kid of Karen and Chet?”

“I didn’t say Tyler... i said _Kyler_ ,” Jared corrected her. 

“Kyler?!” Alana exclaimed, smiling at how goddamn _stupid_ it was.

“The name is gaining in popularity, Miss Alana... what’s your middle name?”

“Alana Rebekah... okay, don’t give me that look, I know it’s bad.”

“Alana Rebekah Beck? Yeah, you’re in no position to make fun of this poor kid’s name.”

“My sister is named Johanna, but she goes by Jana, Jana Becca Beck. Jana Becca and Alana Rebekah!”

Alana _hated_ her name... but it helped to laugh at herself and how freaking messed up her situation was. She’d told Jared about the situation, but he didn’t really _know_ how bad it was, and she’d like to keep it that way.

“Oh Jesus... okay, so that means we also can’t say ‘ugh, white people.’ Which sucks, because I love saying that, Alana Rebekah Beck.”

“I’m supposedly _Jewish_ and I’ve never been to a temple or had a bat mitzvah... but I’m named _Rebekah_ so it’s _fine_ ,” Alana blurted out without thinking.

Too bad that Jared looked at her with an obviously concerned expression.

“Okay, so I can’t pass that off as a joke, huh?” Alana asked, still smiling awkwardly.

“That’s my move, though, Alana! I’m the joke kid.”

“You’re the asshole kid, is what you are... I mean that in a good way.”

“Alana... Alanaaaaaaaaaaa.” Jared protested, swinging his left leg. 

“You know what you are. You’re a bitch and you damn well know it.”

Alana had never said anything like that before. Whatever the fuck Jared was bringing out in her... she wasn’t entirely sure if she liked it? But he was laughing now, so maybe, just maybe, it was all okay... but damn...

“Alright, you got me. I’m a bitch and I damn well know it... didn’t take you for the type to call someone else out on their bullshit like that.”

“I called Evan Hansen out on his bullshit... he ever tell you that?”

“Well, so did I... the bitch deserved it.”

Alana was about to open her mouth and tell Jared exactly what she’d said when one of the girls inside whined, “Alana, there’s a daddy short legs in the bathroom!”

“I’d better get back to them... God’s children, after all.”

“Yeah... god’s gift unto the world... seven year olds.”

“Gotta love ‘em,” Alana said, smiling ruefully and swinging her ponytail a bit as she turned back up the stairs and into her cabin.

When she looked out the window on her way over to the bathroom she saw him stand there for a moment, and then slowly walk away.

Which was weird. Stalker-ish, perhaps? Or maybe he was just thinking. Who the hell knew, anyway. Jared’s brain was impossible to understand... the kid probably couldn’t understand it himself.

Alana trapped the ‘daddy short legs’ under a glass, slid a piece of paper under it, and threw him out into the wild again, and Wendy shut the door with a resounding slam.

“No more daddy short legs... let’s get our PJs on and get into bed, girls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god please leave a comment it’s not like i need the serotonin to keep writing since it’s done but girl i worked my ass off on this


	2. and you touch me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana, fueled by a need to ~~prove herself to people~~ make her medical school application rock solid, shovels manure. An appearance by poison ivy is also made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no tws for this chapter, enjoy! it’s one of my favorite ones, even if it’s a chapter i wrote a decent while ago.

“This will look good on my med school application... this will look good on my meds school application... community help. What could go wrong?”

That was what Alana was telling herself as she stood in a stable on the east side of Camp Possum Run, facing down the most mean horse in the entire camp and his pile of manure.

Pepper was the asshole horse, everyone knew that, and so nobody in their right mind rode him. Unless they were new campers and a little girl that slept two bunks over said “Oh, Pepper’s the best horse, I think you should have him because you’re new,” and then they would get on, and Pepper would screech and if you did anything even slightly wrong, he’d buck and bite and you’d end up falling on your back onto the ground... if you were lucky, in a grassy area.

And here Alana was, because stupid, eager to please Alana Beck had volunteered to do the worst chore that counsellors were required to do: manure duty.

Because it would give her good standing with everyone else, would it not? It would make the other counselors say look at her, Alana Beck, willing to take one for the team and scoop Pepper’s poop... or literally nobody would care, other than for the fact that they didn’t have to do manure duty.

Why would anyone else care? She’d barely talked to any of them... except Jared, of course, but... she’d barely spoken to most of them. There weren’t huge counselor get togethers or anything... there was the break they all got every two week on Parent’s Day (if they were even staying after Parent’s Day; some counselors were two week counselors, just like the campers), and there would be a counselor dance like they were in some high school rom-com, and a movie night... and that was about it. 

So why the hell was she _voluntarily_ scooping manure?

She sighed to herself, and Pepper, as if he’d read her thoughts, let out a soft nicker, like he was judging her too. Alana Beck... eager to please and so, so clinically stupid.

Booksmart but world dumb. 

She pulled her hair back and got to work, scooping the poop and avoiding the horse as he stamped angrily around his stable. “Yeah, Pepper, I know... do you want to go on a ride with some unsuspecting eight year old?”

Pepper responded by peeing.

Because that was exactly what Alana needed! 

She heard the stream begin, and the smell hit her next, and she finally decided to look and oh, he peed like Tom Hanks in A League Of Their Own. Long... comically long, but like a joke that went on too long, comically long.

Alana sighed and continued scooping.

“Oh, I want to ride the pony!” Oh, awesome. One of the groups had come for a horse riding session. By their hot pink t-shirts and the big black letters denoting them as the Parrot Cabin, Alana deduced that they were the eight year old girls group.

There were cabins for every age between seven and fourteen, and one boy group and one girl group. Apparently some years the older cabins had had to be combined because there weren’t enough kids to fill some of the older age groups (eleven and twelve year olds, for some reason, they kept not having enough of, every other year, but this year they had full cabins in every age group). Every cabin had their own color and animal, which was why Alana was in the purple Raccoon Cabin, and Jared in the green Alligator Cabin... and these eight year olds in the pink Parrot Cabin.

Their counselor, an intimidatingly tall brunette girl who probably played basketball, with her thin hair in a ponytail so high and tight it hurt Alana’s scalp, small green eyes, and a tight lipped grimace. She clearly didn’t want to be here.

“Alright, girls, we meet with Miss Parker and she tells us how to ride horses,” the girl said, in an almost condescending tone. Actually, probably more bored than anything else.

Alana stuck her head out of the stable door. “Miss Parker’s in the back,” she told them, making several of the girls and their counselor jump in surprise.

“Oh. Alana. Manure duty?” The counselor asked. So clearly, here it was, Alana Beck: nobody cared that you volunteered for manure duty!

“Yeah... eight year olds?”

“Yep... horse time. I’m Mariah, by the way.”

“Alana... well, you already knew that. Miss Parker’s in the back.”

“Alright then, girls, let’s go,” Mariah said, herding her campers off to the back of the stables area, and Alana turned back to Pepper, who gave her a look, almost, that seemed to say, _You gonna clean this up?_

She sighed and kept shoveling.

After she was done, she put as much distance between her and the stables as she could without going into the cabin area. Her campers had had mandatory swimming lessons this afternoon, which was why she had had time to... shovel manure. Not even every counselor who had the afternoon off had been assigned a chore! And those who had, none of them hadn’t had anything as bad as manure duty... and nobody had volunteered for it.

Alana was dumb, yes, she knew, but now she could only sigh and put distance between her and the stables and Pepper and his condescending looks at her shoveling his poop, maybe not to the cabin to shower because there might be a straggler reading a book and she didn’t want to deal with that, but _god_ she smelled.

Eventually, she ended up sitting down in a patch of grass by the flagpole, blissfully alone as a soft breeze rippled past, ruffling her bright purple Raccoon Cabin t-shirt. God, when she got out of here, she would burn every single one of these ugly, ugly shirts. It made her look like she was on a field trip, age six, with her first grade class, so that she wouldn’t get lost. Which... was probably what they were going for.

She unfolded her legs from criss cross applesauce to straight out, and she leaned back on her hands, set on the ground behind her back, and _breathed._

For a moment, she made it all glimmer away. The plans forming in her head of what she would do when she got home and then had to leave for Harvard two weeks afterward (contacting her parents to ask about the mortgage on the house to make sure that they were still paying it, maybe), the lingering stress aching on her brain about the Connor Project and what had happened (she’d cancelled the orchard and donated the money to _real_ mental health organizations, and put on the website that she could no longer handle running the project on her own, a passive aggressive blow to Evan that he never responded to) and the campers and chores and the MCAT... and Jared.

No matter how much she wanted to let her mind race at a million miles per hour, for probably a full minute, she just breathed, letting her mind go blissfully blank, except for remembering an article she read about how Navy SEALS would make their minds go blank and then were able to fall asleep, because she could never go completely blank.

Even when she accidentally fell asleep, right then and there, she still wasn’t blank, dreaming about taking the MCAT and getting a perfect score and then her parents laughing at her, because she could never win, even in her dreams.

She woke up when someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she hummed absently, curling up a bit.

“Alana, you stink, I hope you’re aware of that.”

She just couldn’t get rid of Jared, apparently.

“Thanks, I guess... what time is it?” Alana asked, attempting to be casual about the fact that Jared had just woken her up in a patch of leaves when she probably had stuff to do, and so did he.

“Four... you had stable duty, huh?”

“How’d you guess?”

“See, I was just grateful me showing up late to the counselor chore meeting didn’t mean I got assigned stable duty, but then you go and lay down in poison ivy smelling like poop... I think I can put things together.”

“Wait, say that again?”

Jared looked confused. “Uhh.. I was grateful that when I showed up late to the chore mee-“

“Not that.... this is..” she looked down at the patch of leaves she had fallen asleep in... oh _shit_ it definitely was poison ivy.

She yelped and scrambled up, nearly falling flat on her back after tripping over a stick that was on the ground near her, but Jared grabbed her arm and steadied her.

Her world, against her will, narrowed to that point of contact... Jared’s warm hand against her arm.

Alana Beck was not going to catch feelings... the very idea of it was one of the dumbest things that the universe had ever even _suggested_ to her.

She stood there awkwardly for a moment, before finally managing to get out, “Well, shit, you touched me, now you’re going to get it.”

“Ah, fuck!” Jared said, immediately taking his hand off her arm. Good, no more warm feelings in her stomach or butterflies or any of that crap that was for no reason, it disappeared.

Or at least, retreated to a darker, more unknown place where she could deny its existence. Like how Republicans were about climate change! It was right there... and she... what was this internal dialogue, anyway? There was no climate denial about the warm feelings in her chest and the hurricane of butterflies... that was just shock from the fact that she had fallen asleep in poison ivy.

“Go wash your hands, Jared.”

“Go shower, Alana... and invest in some calamine lotion for sure... I don’t know how you can get around this after presumably several hours asleep right there.” He held the hand that had touched her stiffly away from his body, which would have put a normal person off, but Alana couldn’t deny the warm, cheerful, joking look in his brown eyes.

“I will,” she said, almost like a declaration, and turned on her heel and speed walked to the bathhouse.

But of course, Jared followed her as far as the door, because it was the nearest bathhouse she was racing to, and he needed to wash his infected hand.

The two exchanged a look as they went into their respective sides of the bathhouse, Jared into the men’s and Alana’s into the woman’s, grabbing one of the thin, scratchy towels from the stack near the sink and rushing into the shower as fast as she could.

But it was useless, she knew- she’d been sleeping in that patch of poison ivy too long for a shower to do anything, so no matter how hard she scrubbed with the stupid bar of soap that smelled weird and left a weird half slippery feeling, like trying to slide on a Slip N Slide that wasn’t slippery, it was all for no good, other than getting the manure and B.O. smell off her body... so she’d feel like shit but smell less shitty.

She got out, dried off, and carried her clothes in a bundle while also holding up her towel, realizing she was going to have to walk a solid half a mile to the Raccoon Cabin from the bathhouse, which was close to where she had been but not the closest one to her cabin, and here she was with nothing but a towel. 

Which wasn’t awkward at all!

Better yet than the fact that she was half a mile away from her cabin (roughly 2,640 feet away) and she had nothing but a towel and her sneakers and dirty clothes, this area of the camp was only accessible by a series of very short hiking trails, and decent trails, not nature walks, single track trails with roots and rocks and good old fashioned mud from the rain last night, and she had to hike a half a mile in a towel and sneakers without socks.

Alana Beck: the pinnacle of intelligence.

She sighed and gathered up her stuff, tucked her towel into itself as best she could, wiggled into her shoes, not bothering to undo and redo the laces, and walked out, looking both ways in hopes nobody was around.

Phew. Nobody was-

“So you have no clothes?” 

And there was Jared... Jared whom she just _couldn’t_ escape, Jared holding a bottle of calamine lotion that he’d probably just gotten from the camp store a little bit from here while she was showering.

Which was... really really really sweet. And there definitely weren’t any warm fuzzy feelings, that was just the heat of July in the woods.

“Did you seriously buy me lotion?” Alana asked, hoping she wasn’t wrong and that actually he’d just bought it for himself or someone else, and then he’d look at her weird and tell her-

“Yeah... here, trade you,” Jared said, unceremoniously taking Alana’s clothes from where she had them clutched close to her chest, leading to her quickly reclutching the towel around her chest to prevent it from falling down, and he handed her the bottle of lotion.

“Oy vey... warn a girl before you mug her,” Alana joked, trying to make light at how very, very, very awkward this situation was. She wasn’t wearing _any_ underwear, and now that Jared had the clothes- while it was nice, because then she didn’t have to worry about dropping anything and having to bend over and pick it up- oh my god he was holding her _underwear_ for Christ’s sake!

And not only that, there was poison ivy on her clothes. So nobody won in this situation.

“You do realize that there’s poison ivy all over those clothes, right, Jared?”

He looked a little bit disturbed with this information, but shrugged. “Oh, well... maybe the steam from the shower aired them out.”

“That’s kinda, uh, not how this works, Jared,” Alana said, and the look on his face of ‘Oh shit, I have poison ivy now,’ made her burst into awkward laughter.

“Oh, well, god built in the punishment... besides, it’s worth it to help you. Come on, let’s not stand here, let’s get you to your cabin.”

“You’re seriously going to walk with me to my cabin?”

“Do you want your clothes back?”

“Well, yeah, but-“

“I’m not going to take advantage of you in.... thiiiissss situation,” Jared said, making something of a ‘welp’ face, lips in a straight line, but eventually smoothed it out to a kind smile. Damn his nice smiles. “I’ll walk ten feet behind you. Now start walking.”

“Ack, but that’s worse! Then you have to look at the back of me the entire time,” Alana complained, but still began walking towards the trailhead.

“Trust me, the towels here are shitty, but it covers your butt, mind my language, please,” Jared said from behind her, and she heard him begin to walk a bit after that.

Alana giggled at that. “Seven year olds?”

“Seven year olds,” Jared agreed, as Alana entered into the trail.

Even though it’d been hours since she walked here earlier, the mud seemed worse than it had been, which sucked the first time she got ankle deep, because she’d just showered, and not only that, she was kinda walking along in a towel, which was not really an ideal situation.

Jared stayed pretty quiet for awhile, but that was pretty uncharacteristic for him, so it didn’t last long.

“Your kids are still at swim lessons, yeah?”

“They start at four, they have two hours of lessons, and then they have three hours of free time with the lifeguards and swim teachers, of which they can spend some time on the beach.”

“Just making sure you remembered correctly.”

“You’re amazing at small talk, Jared,” Alana said seriously.

“I’m a little... you’re kinda...”

“Nude-y Judy?”

“Was going to say Bare Bernice, but..”

Alana laughed, a good laugh that came from the chest, and chose to not think much on the fact that she’d laughed more here, at camp, with Jared, then she had laughed all year... fake laughter didn’t count because it made her feel cold and twisty inside.

“Naked Nana?”

“Oh, gross... never met a grandmother of mine, both died when I was really young, so when I was ten and bored in the hospital after getting my appendix out and watched a lot of daytime television... I watched a lot of the Golden Girls, you see... and I decided that Betty White was my grandmother.”

“So you’re... you’re saying...”

“...Betty White nudes.”

“What goes _on_ in that cursed brain of yours?!” Alana screeched, even though she was laughing hysterically. 

“I’m giving you Nice Jared... usually I serve up a lot more cursed things to people.”

Alana turned around to make a face at him, but kept walking- and ended up tripping over a root.

She tumbled to the ground, saying a bad word at a volume that wasn’t good in a camp with a lot of children around, and tried desperately to keep her towel around her- but she probably flashed Jared.

“Shit, shit shit shit shiiit,” Alana cursed again, trying to get up, and realizing how difficult that was going to be in her current... ensemble.

“Alright, here, give me your hand,” Jared said, squatting down beside her, and Alana gave him a _look_ of _are you fucking serious?_

“Come on, give me your hand... would you feel better if I closed my eyes?”

“A little? But not a lot,” Alana said slowly, not making any moves to get up on her own, assessing the damage mentally- a wiggle of her ankles, a pat of the face to make sure there wasn’t any-

“Your nose is bleeding... and you have a cut on your forehead.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Alana said cheerfully. 

Jared gave her a weird look, and she smiled lopsidedly in return. 

“I give up. I give up trying to be embarrassed!” Alana decided, thoroughly exasperated.

“You weren’t embarrassed before?” Jared teased.

“Jared!”

“I surrender, geez,” Jared said, putting his hands up in the air to punctuate his words.

“Alright... okay. Help me up, keep those eyes shut.”

He sighed, but closed his eyes, and held out his hand. 

Alana took it, using her other hand to hold up her towel, and got up enough to be in a squat, and then stood up slowly, careful to keep her balance.

Jared, on the other hand, was not careful, and his eyes were closed, so when he moved to make sure she was getting up okay, he somehow, _somehow_ , in a way that was the absolute _clumsiest_ and oddly lucky (not in a good way) thing Alana had ever seen in her entire life, he slipped on the same root she had, and fell- taking Alana with him.

And now she was on top of him, and she was kinda mostly naked, and he had kinda taken all of his weight and hers in the fall.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: team-zoey-has-two-hands
> 
> serotonin levels: please leave me comments


	3. i will follow you down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poison ivy becomes more of an issue for Alana, as does the fact that she’s a teenager capable of feeling emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tws for mentions of parental neglect and mentions of underage sex

“Shit, you okay?” Alana asked, frantically trying to gather her towel up to protect her chest from view and also get off of him... which didn’t actually work very well.

“I fell on a very hard root... you’re premed, I think you can figure out how well I’m doing.”

“Anything broken?”

“Just my pride.”

He opened his eyes, finally, and looked up at her... and his eyes met hers, and god almighty, Alana never wanted to look away.

Jared just looked at her in a way, like- yeah, he was in pain, but... 

Oh, shit, she was so not catching feelings for him... and yet she couldn’t make herself look away? What was up with that? She wanted to look away, but actually, not really, and shit, what if she was hurting him, and what if she had crushed him, maybe he’d broken his spine or some shit, or-

“Alana, you’re kinda... you kinda have to breathe? Are you hurt?”

It took a few moments for it all to sink in.

She’d been thinking so hard that she’d... forgotten to breathe. And now she was staring at Jared, his eyes now extremely concerned, and she wasn’t breathing.

And even after that information had hit her, it took her a moment to let it sink in, and even longer for it to actually process, and longer still for her to breathe... and she was just _there_ , laying on top of Jared Kleinman, chin propped up on his chest to look at him, unable to breathe and make herself stop overthinking and start, y’know, performing basic bodily functions.

“Alana, don’t panic, you didn’t hurt me, relax, okay?”

His words, while soothing, couldn’t make it go any faster, and damnit, she couldn’t, she wasn’t-

Finally, her body and brain caught up with each other and she gasped out the air she’d been holding, coughing and gasping for sweet, sweet air, which never tasted quite this good.

“Hey, you’re okay, just breathe, Alana.”

“Shit, how could I stop breathing?” Alana finally was able to gasp out.

“Anxiety go brrr?” Jared suggested.

“I was a little worried I crushed you, but nothing major... why would Alana Beck have anxiety?”

“Your explanation explained to me that you’ve got it... which is fine. No judgment, not that I have it. I’m very cash money that way.”

“Good for you... so. We’re...”

Alana trailed off as she heard first distant footsteps, and then a pair of shoes appeared in Alana’s line of vision. Sketchers, green. With lights on the side that lit up as she walked. Very nice, you could tell a lot about a person from their shoes... but she’d prefer _not_ to have to face this person in her current position.

Still, she sat up on Jared- which was actually not a good move, probably, it made it look worse- held her towel over her chest, and made eye contact with the Rattlesnake Cabin counselor, all decked out in the camp uniform with her cabin shirt in a bright, construction orange, and she crossed her arms, her skin tanned slightly but overall still definitely white, and shook her head at Alana, blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail.

“Are you serious, Raccoon?”

“This isn’t what it looks like-“

“I’m pretty sure it’s _exactly_ what it looks like... you’re lucky I’m the one who found you. I would get up and move fast... very fast. Nobody was coming from my direction I think, they’re still all down at the lake... but like, move it. Find a better trail to fuck on next time.”

“Um... we weren’t fucking,” Jared said, as Alana slid off of him and stood up on her own.

“You were having some sort of sexual interaction, or my name isn’t Annabelle.”

“Guess you’re going to have to get a name change, then, girl... I know a guy who knows a guy who can help you through the legal process,” Jared responded, getting up himself. Alana watched closely- no signs of broken bones, thank fuck.

“Jesus Christ... an alligator and raccoon.”

“Was there some sort of standard to uphold because we’re those cabins? And that was a _very_ unwelcome image in my brain, thank you, Formerly Annabelle. When I see you I’ll always remember the mental image of an alligator and a raccoon getting it on to .”

So this was the Jared Kleinman he showed to everyone else... it was the Jared Kleinman she knew... or used to know, anyway. She hadn’t spoken to him much since the Connor Project until now, and now he was being very nice to her, almost a completely different person with a few jokes here and there, and here he was facing down someone else and telling them about an alligator and a raccoon having sex.

“I’m not a raccoon, I’m a Alana,” Alana said, cursing herself for how utterly smooth that wasn’t.

Annabelle and Jared both laughed... which wasn’t the reaction she was going for.

“I’m Jared.”

“Good for you guys. Please, _please_ go find somewhere else to fuck... this is getting pretty weird,” Annabelle said, shaking her head with a minorly disgusted expression, coming around Alana to continue her walk down the trail.

“Ten feet behind you?” Jared asked.

“Ten feet behind me,” Alana agreed, getting walking again.

_____________________

The poison ivy developed quickly, torturously quickly, and immediately became an _issue_

Her arms, legs, neck, even some of her face, all rash-y and horrible, almost every bit of exposed skin had gotten a good dose of urushiol and she wasn’t happy.

The calamine lotion Jared had bought her was cheap (because that was kinda all that they had available at the camp store) but it was calamine lotion, and it did help some with the itching. Still, she felt like she was about ready to tear her skin off.

Jared had walked her to the door of her cabin and told her later that he dropped her clothes in the sink in the nearest bathhouse and soaked them for awhile, before picking them up and giving them back to Alana in a trash bag, but the damage was done. He had a rash all over his arms from where he’d held her clothes, and needless to say, she shared his calamine lotion.

Alana did her best to keep busy to distract from the fact that she kinda constantly felt like she was dying the next day, and at Camp Possum Run, when your cabin was full of seven year olds that had to be constantly supervised by someone, it wasn’t particularly difficult to keep going, and Alana did her damnest to try and keep herself from scratching- going so far as to wonder if Shibari, while embarrassing, would do the trick- or just a simple hog tie, really.

Late in the evening, after her kids had gone to bed, she was sitting on the porch of the cabin, violently scrubbing the lotion into her skin, when, of course, Jared Kleinman showed up.

She couldn’t get rid of him- and honestly, she kinda didn’t want to. It was... nice, having him around.

Not at all related to the feelings she got inside when she got into compromising positions with him or he showed the tiniest bit of kindness towards her- give her a break, nobody ever was nice to her!

“Need some lotion?” Alana asked, smiling ruefully in the dim yellow light from the flickering porch light.

“God, yes,” Jared said, and Alana handed him the bottle, and the two sat in comfortable silence as he rubbed down.

“Sorry, about the poison ivy infection,” Alana said.

“It’s alright... I did it knowingly. What man leaves a girl to carry her clothes half a mile in a towel alone?”

“Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.”

Jared smiled. “Don’t expect me to put my shirt down in a puddle of water for you, but maybe it isn’t.”

“Usually you can just, like... walk around or step over puddles... and besides, a shirt would just soak up the water and there’d still be wetness. And besides, don’t people have shoes?”

“Not the conversation I was expecting to have, but I’m willing to go with the flow.”

Alana smiled- but stopped. “What kind of conversation were you expecting to have?”

They sat in silence again for a few moments, which wasn’t hell for Alana and The Overthinking at _all_.

“I’m sorry... for the emails.”

“What?”

“The emails... the Connor and Evan emails... I wrote them. Helped... wrote most of them.”

“Oh,” was all Alana could manage to say.

“Yeah... it wasn’t a good move. I just... Evan got himself in deep shit and I wasn’t about to see him go down- it’d be entertaining, but kinda an asshole move, so I... helped.”

“You... aren’t the only one who did something bad in the Connor Project,” Alana said slowly.

“What, you posting the ‘suicide note?” Jared asked, putting ‘suicide note’ in air quotes. “You were just trying to raise money... you didn’t have malicious intent.”

“No, you’re the one who didn’t have malicious intent... you were just trying to help out a friend.”

“And you weren’t? Were you actively trying to get the Murphy’s cyber bullied and doxxed?”

“No, but it was about money..”

“Money that Evan should’ve been helping you raise... it was his idea. It wasn’t fair that he left you swimming in all that... I only realized how bad you must’ve had it awhile after the fact. He was ‘helping the Murphys’... you were doing everything.”

“After a point, yes, I was doing the vast majority of the work.”

“And, no offense, but nobody cares about Alana Beck- I don’t mean that like I don’t care about you,” Jared added quickly, seeing how much her face fell when he said that.

Whatever he meant... it was _true_ and it _hurt._

“I mean... Evan’s the face of the project. Evan’s Connor’s best friend, at least, everyone thought that. But he was the founder, the guy who made that speech about his ‘best friend’ who’d committed suicide... they don’t remember Alana Beck, the face of the fundraising drive... they’d donate if Evan was involved, and when you involved Evan with the suicide note addressed to him... people got involved, and donated.”

Wait. Wait a hot second.

He’d put ‘suicide note’ in air quotes... why had he done that?

“Jared, wait... why did you say suicide note and do air quotes?” Alana said, trying to not let the growing panic seep into her voice.

“I thought you knew?”

“Jared, why did you do that?!” Alana asked again, voice now increasingly panicky with every word.

Because _if..._

“It wasn’t a real suicide note... it was a letter Evan wrote for therapy. They found it in Connor’s pocket when he died, so the Murphy’s thought he was... so... that’s how the lie got started.”

Alana turned away from Jared because she would really prefer not to start crying while staring at his face.

Because that was... a little to much for her to handle.

The suicide note- her darkest hour, when she’d gone as far to try and _overdose_ because of the guilt... and it wasn’t even real.

Evan hadn’t even told her himself everything was over... Jared had had to. Jared had seen her face crumple once before... so what did it matter that she was trying so, so hard not to break down anew right now?

“Fuck Evan Hansen, by the way,” Alana said slowly, her voice shaking.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that, Alana,” Jared said softly.

They sat in silence for a good solid few minutes after that, but then Jared picked up the bottle of lotion again and got up and sat on the step behind Alana.

“What are you doing?” Alana asked, turning around to see him.

“You have poison ivy on your neck and back where you probably can’t reach... and i just dropped an unpleasant thing on you, so... is it alright if I put some lotion on it?”

“Eh... knock yourself out,” Alana said, like it wasn’t a big deal whatsoever.

Not like now he was gently applying cool lotion to her neck and upper back, gently rubbing in small circles, in a massaging manner, getting the lotion not just on the poison ivy but in every tense little knot on the back of her neck and upper back, trying to get every little kink and twist out of it... and taking way longer than applying lotion should.

He was trying to make her feel better, and he was intentionally taking longer than he should, and it was... really sweet. Alana just hoped she was too sad to feel warm and fluttery inside... and failed.

For a moment, she allowed herself to indulge in the feeling... his warm hands on her upper back and shoulders, rubbing in gentle, soothing circles, like there was nothing in the world he’d rather do, and she let herself relax against his touch a little, let herself feel the warm butterflies in her stomach fly around in a gentle pattern that matched Jared’s gentle massaging, the way she could just barely hear his breathing, the image of what she thought his face was without turning around, focused, slightly scrunched.

She let herself feel safe for a moment, let herself feel like Jared would take care of her, like he wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to her. Which was good... it was good.

But just for a moment.

Because her walls were made of stone, and she could peer out of a small hole in them for a moment, but after that, she needed to go back into her fortress, slap a band-aid over the hole, and try to ignore the relaxing feelings still somehow making their way into her cave of not having to feel anything. 

Because whenever Alana Beck ever let her walls come down, just a little, she was slapped on the face, attacked viciously, screamed at, told she’d never be _anything_.

When she was eleven and got to live with her parents for a bit... and the way her parents _treated_ her, like she was nothing, like she was only worth the clout she could earn them, and when she raised her voice for just a moment to protest- they told her she was nothing. They told her she’d never be anything.

And since then, all she’d done was try and be _something_ for them. Trying desperately, with school, with extracurriculars, with her trip to Botswana with Sabrina Patel (who she’d then fallen out with just a few weeks after they got back; one of her few friends she’d ever had), perfect grades, perfect GPA, perfect smile... Little Miss Perfect. 

She didn’t do anything wrong... except for that one, _one_ thing she’d done and then regretted, did the right thing after it, because of the _actually_ wrong thing with the stupid Connor Project and the stupid suicide note... which apparently wasn’t even a real fucking suicide note.

She thought being part of an amazing, student-led charity would make her parents proud.

But the face of the project, the only one who ever got any recognition, was stupid white boy Evan Hansen.

“Remember when he went on Good Morning America?” Alana asked, trying to make the situation less quiet and soothing and nice.

“Yeah... the Murphy’s drove him to the city. Not his mom... he didn’t tell his mom. The Murphy’s drove him, he went on Good Morning America, and told Robin Roberts that it was such hard work, especially since he was doing it all on his own,” Jared said quietly... bitterly. “And she asked, “You’re really doing every bit of work on the Connor Project yourself?” and I remember the way he looked at her, all earnest and proud of himself, and said, “Yeah. I don’t have any help- probably should work on that, but I’m doing it all on my own.”

“I turned on Good Morning America because I had just pulled my fourth consecutive all nighter, to keep myself awake since it was a Saturday and I didn’t have school but I had to keep working, and after all of that and what he said... it felt like someone had slapped me. And I still... I still stayed in the project. I had every reason to leave, I had every reason to tell him off, and I didn’t... because I still craved what I thought I would get from being part of the Connor Project... people noticing me. Friendship, maybe.”

It had been one of the worst days in her life, comparable only to a few; the day her parents had screamed at her, the day her grandmother had died, the day Jared had told her the Connor Project was all a lie, the day she did something bad to cope with the fact that she had posted the note earlier that day and it’d made a maelstrom of hate against the Murphy’s, and the day she faced consequences for that thing. 

“Jesus Christ... you had it worse than any of us... either of us, I guess.”

“It was really just you and I and him... he did help at the beginning... he did help. A lot... unwillingly, like I was forcing him to do it... like I was the bad guy. And then less and less and then all of a sudden, nothing... for two months I did it all on my own, and I was sixteen. My seventeenth birthday came and went a few days before the note thing went down... he didn’t care. I told him... he didn’t care.”

“He was doing what I like to call ‘helping the Murphy’s...’ he told me he had sex with Zoe... on Connor’s bed.”

“Oh, god! Oh, god, that’s disgusting!” Alana exclaimed, thoughts about poor little Alana whose birthday nobody cared about and poor little Alana who had had to make a doctor’s appointment all on her own all thrown out the window... Zoe was the clear winner, if anyone, here.

“Well, if you had asked Evan Hansen... he sure didn’t think it was disgusting,” Jared said bitterly.

“God, no,” Alana groaned, shuddering. Jared placed a hand on her upper back, behind her right shoulder, to steady her.

“Evan... is a huge piece of work.”

“Amen to that... wish he could’ve done his piece of work stuff on some other people.”

“Yeah... poor us.”

“Poor Zoe... and poor you.”

Jared paused for a moment. “I’m going to tell you something I never told anyone... you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I don’t... generally laugh at people..”

“Oh, this one takes the cake.”

Alana frowned, worried he was about to tell her that he was really black Evan Hansen and this was the apocalypse, and Jared finally stopped rubbing her back, clicked the calamine lotion closed, and sat down on the same step as her, next to her. 

So this must be the part where he told her he had six wives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah yes i love them very much... not enough to make endings to chapters that make sense


	4. and do you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana’s campers make trouble, and Jared’s retaliate, with a special appearance of Alana Punishes Herself Mentally For Feeling Emotions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> large tw this chapter for a good bit about a past suicide attempt and more parental neglect

“I... had a crush on Evan. For years. Don’t worry, it went away, because I don’t find lying and screwing someone on their dead brother’s bed very hot, but... for a long time I crushed on him,” Jared explained.

Oh. So he was gay. So that’s why he was perfect in every way... straight guys would never be as good.

“You... had a crush... on-“ Alana sputtered lamely.

“I had a crush on Evan Hansen!” Jared said, laughing a little. “God, I was a stupid kid.”

“Are... unless you’re eighteen you’re still a stupid kid.”

“My birthday is in October,” Jared protested.

Alana smiled, a little sadly, at him. “Then you’re still a stupid kid.”

“Well, fuck,” Jared said, running a hand through his close-cropped hair and letting it rest on the back of his neck. 

“I can’t... I mean, I guess I can believe it, gay guys are way better than hetero guys... it makes sense you’re gay.”

“I’m not gay, though... I’m bi... so I’m still half awful.”

“Well so am I, actually... so I guess I’m half awful, too.”

“Seriously?”

“Being bi go brrr,” Alana responded eloquently. Jared laughed again.

“Well... had a crush on Evan Hansen since freshman year... kinda fizzled out after we had a falling out over the fact that he used me and I was over it.”

“God, that’s... I’m sorry for asking, but what could you possibly see in him? He’s an asshole... and there’s no way he treated you right before the Connor Project, judging from what I saw during the project and what you’ve told me... there’s no way.”

“I was a stupid kid, okay?”

“Am. You _are_ a stupid kid.”

“Geez, fine. But look, I thought he was cute! I don’t really know what I actually saw in him but I know I thought he was cute.”

“He looks like a white man.”

“Okay, true, he definitely looks like a white man... every single white man.”

“Every single fucking one,” Alana agreed.

“Alright, well... I had a crush on Evan Hansen, that’s about the most embarrassing thing you could possibly know about me. Please don’t blackmail me, I can’t handle that, I am but a feeble, stupid kid.”

“Don’t worry... I have no intentions of blackmailing you... why would I? You treat me like a human being and I respect that.”

“Surely I’m not the only one who’s ever treated you like a human being.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Lana, can’t sleep, and Yasmine’s being loud and reading a book,” A small, angry voice declared, the cabin door creaking open. Alana turned around to see Wendy, in her cute little Tinker Bell pajamas, with her cute little straight brown hair in a cute little braid, and her face in a cute little angry scrunched up look. 

“Alright, Wendy, I’ll be in in a bit,” Alana said slowly.

Wendy’s big brown eyes flickered over to Jared. “You have a _boyfriend_?” She asked incredulously, eyes widening almost cartoonishly.

“I do _not_ , Wendy, now go in and go back to bed, I’ll be in a minute.”

“ _And_ he’s in Alligator Cabin? Alligator Cabin boys are stinky!” 

“Well, we’re all stinky, Wendy, which is why we’re all taking showers in the morning after our nature walk, now go to bed.”

“Lana’s got a _boyfriend_?!” Another little voice, Tillie’s, chimed in, and she peeked her head out at Alana and Jared.

“Lana’s got an alligator?” Jessi cried excitedly, rushing out to see, her face falling when it wasn’t an alligator. “Oh. Just a dumb boy.”

“Girls, go to bed..”

A small child chorus of “Lana’s got a boyfriend?!” erupted from inside the cabin, and Yasmine (holding a flashlight and lugging with her a copy of, lord almighty, Merrian-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, eleventh edition, this was the next-generation Alana Beck, for sure), Kristy, Claudia, Shannon, and Sara all came out to gawk.

“Alright, Jared, I think I should probably, uh-“

“Yeah, uh... good luck,” Jared said slowly, standing up and waving slowly to the girls. Jessi stuck her tongue out at him, and the rest of the girls looked decently annoyed, a few crossing their arms.

“Yeah, same to you,” Alana said stiffly, picking up the bottle of calamine lotion and walking up the rest of the stairs.

After Alana went inside, she spent a solid twenty minutes talking down the excited (and wide awake) seven year olds, Alana finally climbed into bed, on her horrible, vinyl covered mattress with absolutely no padding, that she luckily had a sheet over, but it didn’t make it so that she didn’t have to deal with the horrible sound of the vinyl crumpling under her weight.

She drew the curtains around her bed (a welcome addition to the counselor’s bed that had been added after last summer, apparently) and pretended not to hear the hushed whispers about how much they hated the alligator cabin, because eventually they were going to shut up and go to sleep.

Eventually, they did, but Alana laid awake, overthinking herself black and blue over her conversation(s) with Jared.

She pulled the perpetual purple bandana off her right wrist and stared at the thin, light colored scar along her wrist, delicate, almost, immaculately straight, because if Alana was going to kill herself, damnit, she was going to do it neatly.

Neater would be an overdose; but that had failed before, so Alana had resorted to the delicate little scar on her wrist, knife against her wrist, a comforting feel of cold metal against her cold skin.

These were things she could only just think about to herself, things she would never tell anyone... not even Jared, Jared whom she couldn’t get rid of but Jared who gave her warm feelings in her cold body and who rubbed calamine lotion on her.

__________________

Alana awoke to the sound of gentle smashing against the windows, and, half asleep, assumed it was hard rain, and rolled over to get a few more minutes of rest.

The sound didn’t stop, but got more irregular, and began to be accompanied by sounds of... yelling? And then she heard feet scrambling down ladders and her own kids starting to yell, so up she went, blindly grabbing her huge round glasses off the inner shelf on her bunk and sitting up and pulling the curtain.

“Lana, the Alligator boys cabin is egging our cabin,” Yasmine explained.

Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

“Mother.... chicken nugget,” Alana nearly swore. “Alright, alright... girls, unless you want to spend the day in the outhouse, do _not_ open the door until they’re done, or else you’ll get egg all over you. You are not to eat any of the egg, either... just wait it out.

“See, Shannon, I _told_ you that we shouldn’t put bananas all over their cabin!” Jessi chided the little redhead girl in her sassy seven year old way... and then realized her mistake and looked at Alana, and then looked away.

“...You... are going to have to explain to me what you girls did,” Alana said slowly, scared of the answer she was about to get.

“Well... we snuck into the dining hall last night-“ Kristy began.

“We didn’t sneak! We just went in because the lights were on and the lunch ladies were still in the kitchen working, and we got bananas out of the big box, like a whole bunch, and we peeled them..” Claudia continued, trailing off and looking at Wendy.

“And then we ate some, but then we snuck into the Alligator Cabin and put them all over the floor... unpeeled and everything! And the peels, too, so they could slip,” Wendy finished.

“You... left landmines of bananas and banana peels all over the Alligator Cabin... why, exactly?” Alana asked, rubbing her temples. Jesus Christ, she had a fine group of girls... creative, at least.

“So that the stinky boys will stay away from you!”

“So that’s why they’re egging our cabin right now?”

A sea of nods. “Exactly!” Shannon added.

“I... should honestly murder every one of you.” Alana was _tired_ , it was seven and during the school year she got up at five, but today she was just tired... in general. While her girls were creative... she was going to have to hook up a hose from the bathhouse, pull it here, and spray down their cabin while the girls picked up eggshells all day.

The girls huddled together on Alana’s bed for awhile, like they were sitting through a hurricane or tornado or something- which was a little bit completely rare in this part of the country- the worst they might get was some severe thunderstorms.

Alana took the time to go into the closet/makeshift dressing area and throw on a fresh bright purple shirt, loosen her bandana and rub her wrist again and put it back on, and a fresh pair of jean shorts, and she was putting on her shoes and socks when the hailstorm of eggs finally ended (they must’ve found some huge boxes of eggs in the dining hall), and she waited until she had both shoes on, and cautiously stepped out.

“What exactly do you people think you’re doing?” Jared shouted, rushing onto the scene. The boys turned and looked at him, and then looked at Alana standing there- and she got an egg thrown directly at her. Multiple, in fact, a few whizzed into the door and one into the cabin, judging by the shrieks from behind her, but only one hit its intended target- right on her stomach, splattering all over her shirt. 

“Nice aim,” Alana said slowly, the end of her words tilting up like a question, looking down at the damage.

“Brent!” Jared shouted, grabbing the boy who had nailed her- a smug looking boy with curly red hair and big blue eyes, and spinning him around to face him. Rather than keep yelling, Jared sat down in front of the boy and talked quietly to him, sternly, but quietly enough so that Alana couldn’t make out what he was saying.

While Jared did that, Alana, being the adult, used stern words with the other boys, saying that they had had no reason to do this- yes, even if the girls had done that to their cabin, they could’ve been nice and she would’ve made them clean it up, but now they were just going to have to clean up the eggshells, and the girls were going to have to clean up the bananas.

Even though her authority was partially undermined by the fact that yes, Brent had definitely nailed her with that egg, the promise that the girls were going to clean up the bananas made them agree to clean up every last bit of eggshell, and the fact that they were going to get to spray the egg crap off the side of the building was a definite plus, and Alana was sure Jared would be able to supervise them enough that the door would stay shut and none of their crap would get soaked.

After exchanging a look and a few quick words about how the girls were going to clean up the bananas, Alana went back into their cabin and informed the girls that while the boys shouldn’t have egged their cabin, they shouldn’t have banana-ed the floor of _their_ cabin, so they were just going to have to go clean it up.

A huge, gloopy, sticky mess of banana all over the floor of the goddamn cabin, that the boys had clearly stepped in, mashed around, and rubbed in, as boys do, armed with girls who were whining and complaining, a mop and bucket, and a lot of towels.

It was a great Wednesday morning, truly.

Alana and Jared didn’t really talk much for a few days after the Incidents; Jared hadn’t been at the Alligator Cabin when the girls had cleaned it up, and vice versa for Alana, and during and after that they were _busy,_ making their departing campers pack up, and then they finally met again on Parent’s Day.

Alana, exhausted, had sat down on a picnic table, put her head down, and apparently had fallen asleep, according to Jared, who apparently gently shook her until she woke up.

“If you’re going to take a nap, at least do it in your cabin, you get a few moments of peace in a place generally so full of strife and hardship,” Jared joked, sitting down across from her as Alana blinked blearily.

“That would have weird mental consequences for my brain,” Alana said, stretching a bit as she sat up, swallowed, and crossed her legs below the wooden table. 

“Screw up what emotions you associate with the cabin?”

“It’s a scary place, Jared, have some _respect_ ,” Alana said, pretending to be outraged as she plopped her chin up on her fists, her elbows on the table.

“So... how many casualties were there from Parent’s Day?” 

“My two weekers gone, I had a four weeker gone, so... Wendy, Tillie, Yasmine, and Emily are gone... I’m getting a Zuri, Megan, and a Christina... and Trisha was doing a five week, somehow, and so she’s leaving next week, so... not a full house! I’m so excited!”

“Rude. I get a full house, I had five leave and I’m having five new ones.”

“There’s really this many parents willing to get rid of their kids for two weeks in the summer... I mean, they’ll be gone on the Fourth of July during this two week session. You’d think we’d have a light week, at least.” 

“Yeah, well... Mommy and Daddy probably just want to go get drunk or something, and aren’t into the family barbecue thing.”

“Assholes.” 

“Assholes,” Jared agreed, “But assholes who give us a job.”

“We get paid twenty five an hour for twelve hour days chasing seven year olds... it’s a tiring job.”

“Yeah... listen... in a week, when they have the indoor movie night thing in the dining hall for the little kids, do you wanna, like... take a walk with me?”

“For what purpose? Murder?” Alana asked jokingly, trying to hide the fact that the phrase _take a walk with me_ made her heart race and her body get all warm and excited and the butterflies go around crazily, but also made her scared he was going to tell her something very private that would make it impossible for her to... have a _friendship_ with him. 

Just friends. 

“Okay, that sounds weird now that I hear it... I just figured we can go on a hike in the dark, apparently every counselor here is supposed to do it. Generally alone, but I don’t think you have yet, so... kill two birds with one stone. I swear this isn’t murder... I just think we deserve a break and to _not_ have to watch some computer animated Disney film with screeching animals.”

“Animation is an art, Jared Kleinman.”

“2D animation is an art, Alana Beck, not computer animated.”

“Real people work on both, while 2D is better computer animation is still an art form.”

“Okay, fine... you win.”

And Alana smiled.

Really, they didn’t talk about anything very interesting on Parent’s Day- or the days leading up to their _hike_. 

It just felt like she was moving in slow motion towards something that was going to happen very fast and be very exciting.

The day came, and it was overcast all day, gross and humid and yucky, and Alana was worried it would rain, and then what would she do? This hike- stressing and overthinking about what might happen on it, was the only thing she had been doing for the past week.

But Jared told her to meet her at the Pee Trail (it was really the T trail, but it was apparently camp tradition to call it the Pee Trail, and someone maybe might’ve peed on it, or maybe it was a right of passage to pee on the trail) but anyway, it was the most difficult trail accessible to the camp and the longest, a solid six miles of difficult, rocky trail.

The Pee Trail... oh, _what_ would occur on the _Pee Trail?_

Apparently, awkward silence for the first half an hour, while they silently walked down the trail towards nowhere.

“Okay, so, why exactly did you take me on this tail with you, at night, for us to... quietly hike?” Alana asked, looking down at the ground as the sky darkened above them with twilight, so she could see what she was doing.

“Okay, I, uh... don’t know... I wanted to talk to you, alone, but like... then I didn’t know how to say it,” Jared said, voice now strained and weird... like he was nervous or something.

“Okay?” Alana was, understandably, quite a bit confused... but she just kept walking and squinting at the ground.

“Okay, first of all, when you’re not wrapped in a towel, you are a _nasty_ hiker, like... I don’t mean that in a bad way, I mean that you hike really... hard. Really fast. And it’s hard to keep up with you?”

“Oh, shit... sorry,” Alana slowed down, still looking at the ground and focusing on not tripping. She was not going to trip and fall in front of him, even in the dark, even when she’d tripped and fallen in front of him before... in broad daylight... in a towel and sneakers with no socks.

“Okay, well... stop for a second, okay?”

Alana stopped, and stopped staring at the ground, looked up at Jared.

And even in the dim light, she saw his face all scrunched up and nervous and worried.

“I... Alana, can we call this a date?”

And everything stopped for her.

The world quit moving, her heart stopped beating, nothing moved for a moment... a long, long moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> commmememembtststst.. please


	5. and my heart beats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Alana talk, agree on some things, and discuss Alana’s angsty backstory, special appearances by just as much of Alana’s racing thoughts as there is dialogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> large tw for discussions of rape, abortion, parental neglect yet again, and drugs

“Oh my god... okay, well, clearly I made this weird... I will stop right now. Don’t worry. I’m stopped. I’m-“ Jared was struggling, sputtering, and Alana needed to say something, and fast.

“We can call it a date, Jared!” Alana shouted, without really meaning to yell, and Jared took a step back in surprise.

“Shit, sorry... not what I... I mean.. I mean... not in a mean way, I swear. Just, I...”

“So I shocked you?”

“Uh, a little, yeah... so like...”

The two shifted their weight on their feet for a moment, caught in their self imposed awkwardness, and Alana realized eventually that she was the one who was going to have to break it.

“I... like you. A lot.”

And Jared’s face, even in the ever dimming light, lit the fuck up.

“You do? Because I like... like you too. A lot.”

“Evan is a bitch... but... at least he introduced me to you... because you’re... nice.”

“Nice, yeah... I try... you’re really pretty and smart and you make me very happy.”

“Good... you make me very happy too.”

“Good.”

They were still stuck in the awkwardness... and it was still up to Alana to be the one to break it.

She wasn’t used to initiating anything... but she took his hand, much larger than hers but baby soft (probably from all the calamine lotion) in both of her hands and looked back up at him.

He was smiling like an idiot... which was good, because so was she.

“Good?”

“Yeah... is this good?” He took her left hand with his left hand, and his right hand that she’d already been holding just held her right.

“Yeah... what about this?”

Alana tried to be smooth and kiss him, but she stumbled on a rock and ended up face-butting his upper chest, which was weird, and she heard him laugh as she pulled her face off of him.

“Smooth, Alana, real smooth... but I think I know what you were going for.”

“Do you?” She tried to smirk, but she was really overwhelmed and overthinking a storm in her brain, so she gave him a grimace.

“Alana, I swear everything’s fine... come here.”

And then he kissed her.

It was Alana Beck’s first kiss, and she wasn’t very good at kissing, apparently, because their teeth did an awful, horrible click as they hit, and Alana hadn’t even known her mouth was open enough for that, but Jared was good, keeping her in the kiss even when she was cringing from the teeth, guiding her gently, somehow with his lips? It was weird. But... nice. His lips were very soft.

Finally, they broke apart, and Alana looked at him... with eyes full of tears that spilled over as she met his brown eyes.

“Oh, god, did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t... I’m... fine. I just, I..”

“Hey, hey, calm down... you’re okay, I swear. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t hurt me... I just... that was my first kiss and I... and you’re so _perfect_...”

“Me? Perfect? You must be kidding yourself.”

“I’m not perfect... why do you want me?”

“You’re amazing, Alana... you’re beautiful, every time you smile I just feel... completed. Like I could fall over and die and it would be fine.”

“Didn’t know you were so smooth,” Alana said, laughing through tears.

“I have practice... but I swear it means something. It means a lot. The sound of your voice... is really nice and comforting. I could go on.”

“Please don’t,” Alana said, wiping her eyes, though it was in vain as she cried a little more.

“Hey, Alana, it’s okay,” Jared said softly, gently, and he took her in his arms, hugging her tight and warm and _right_ against her, and god, did it feel good.

“Is it really?”

“Yeah... it’s okay. I love you... a lot... if that’s okay with you.”

It was more than okay, but her response was sobs.

“Okay, so, uh... was that a yes or no, Alana?” He stroked her hair gently and god, she could just stand here with him forever, except for the embarrassing part where she was crying all over him and his Alligator Cabin sweatshirt.

“A yes... god, a yes, just... nobody loves me, Jared, nobody. Ever. You... are the first.”

“No way... you’re too pretty for that.”

“You know how it is for me in school... everyone ignores me and thinks I’m annoying. And my parents don’t live with me... I guess my grandmother loved me, but she was my grandmother... nobody my age ever likes me. I thought Evan liked me- not liked me, liked me, and... and that stupid boy I... he only liked me for my body.”

“So I was your first kiss, but you’re not a virgin? That’s okay, some people don’t kiss-“

Alana sobbed harder, because now, just her luck, she got to tell Jared about _why_ she wasn’t a virgin.

“It was Trent Selwater, one of those dumb basketball players... I kinda, uh, went to a party and he kinda drugged my drink and made me do it- I guess maybe he kissed me so maybe it wasn’t my first kiss... but I don’t really remember? Not really important.” She ended her confession with a small, awkward laugh.

Jared said nothing for... a concerning amount of time, but eventually he tightened his arms around her.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Alana _was_ a little confused... seriously, why wouldn’t she be fine? She’d been unconscious for most of it, only waking up intermittently and coming in and out of consciousness as Trent did his thing.

“Because... you got raped? I... you aren’t okay.”

“I’m okay, I’m just fine, Jared,” Alana said slowly... slowly realizing as she talked that yeah, okay, she had just done a very concerning thing, and she’d brought it up after the boy who she’d totally had a crush on for a few weeks had told her he liked her... could she be more Alana Beck?

“You got raped... let me help you out here. You got a rape kit and reported it, right?”

“I...”

“You didn’t? Alana...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I should’ve, but I chose to be at that party and to drink something... so I’m not going to even try to make it look like he did something wrong.”

“Alana... listen to me.” He tightened his grip on Alana’s hands. “He raped you... that’s not okay.”

“Okay... okay fine. He did something wrong... I just... why am I talking about this? You told me that you liked me... so like... why are we talking about my tragic backstory?”

“I... because... you need to accept that he did do something wrong to you... and I’d like to be your girlfriend and hold your hand so the seven year olds prank each other to defend their counselor’s honor.”

“You want to be my girlfriend?” Alana asked, a small smile forming.

“Shit, no, boyfriend.. you know what I mean.”

“I do... you’re cute.”

“You’re changing the subject... but I do find you attractive, Alana Beck.”

“I find you attractive as well, Jared Kleinman.”

“We... have to talk about that thing about you being raped... maybe later... but like...”

“We can have a moment of peace?”

“Peace? Yeah... sure.”

“Just... let’s walk. And talk... just not about that stuff.”

“Then let’s walk,” Jared said gently, letting go of one of her hands but keeping his hold on the other, as he started them on the path again.

“You brought a flashlight, right?” Alana asked after a few moments of silently walking down the trail, it almost pitch black between the tree cover and the cloudy, moon and star-less night. 

“Of course I did, thanks for reminding me,” Jared said, and they stopped for a moment for Jared to get his giant flashlight that might technically be classified as a spotlight, flick it on, and the two continued on, hand in hand.

And then it began to rain.

“So... do we turn back?”

“Do you really want to go back and face all the seven year olds? They’re going to sleep in the dining hall... this is our free night.”

“Yeah, but we could go to a cabin and be alone...” Alana let her words trail off, and she looked up at him with a strategic expression only slightly suggesting... suggestiveness.

“Alright, okay, good point. Tuuuurning back,” Jared said with a smile, and the two turned around, hand in hand, and headed back.

Which would’ve been fine if, not fifty feet down the trail, the flashlight flickered out. 

“You... you didn’t..” 

Jared pressed the on button of the flashlight again and again, but it didn’t come back on.

“Okay, so... darkness. This is fine! Just fine,” Alana said, looking up to smile at him and realizing too late that he couldn’t see her at all.

“Yeah... we’ll be fine,” Jared said slowly, and of course, right on cue, the sky opened up on them.

Alana squinted in the darkness to no avail, especially since water was beading up on the lenses of her glasses, making the visibility she already didn’t have even worse.

“Damnit, it’s fucking dark out here,” Alana swore after stumbling over a root. Jared caught her fall, which she appreciated to a degree that she chose not to vocalize, because how could words express how thankful she was Jared simply caught her arm and kept her from falling flat on her face?

“Alright, instead of thinking about how dark and cold and wet it is, let’s think about what we’re going to do when we get back.”

“Oh, what we’re going to do? That sounded suggestive.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jared said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Maybe it does?” Alana left the statement open ended by letting her tone drift up at the end, suggesting a question.

“Oh, _okay_ ,” Jared laughed. 

“Why the laughter? This is a very serious matter, Jared.”

“Maybe it is?” Jared mimicked her, the tone shift at the end of his words matching hers.

Alana giggled, holding tight to Jared’s forearm as she stumbled again.

“Okay, in all seriousness... we should eat when we get back. I’m starving.”

“I did bring food, in my backpack, but if you can wait two miles we can eat in a nice, warm, bright cabin.”

“Mmm, with blankets and dry clothes..”

“Yeah... one of us can go to the cabin we aren’t camping out in and get dry clothes and a toothbrush and the other can go to the dining hall and grab something hot to eat, or throw something in the microwave for us.”

“Ooh, bringing the toothbrush? Sounds suggestive.”

“I don’t know, it sounds pretty sus to me,” Jared joked. Alana gave him a blank look.

“You... don’t play games, huh?”

“Nah... no video games... no board games... just homework.”

“Among Us? You don’t play that?”

“Among who?”

“Damnit, Alana,” and she could see him shake his head, mocking her. “Okay, well... we’ll sit in your cabin, I’ll show you how to play Among Us and you’ll get food.”

“Aren’t we not allowed to use phones?”

“Except during off hours... we have the night off, Alana.”

“Oh, damn, right... I just... haven’t touched my phone since getting here.”

“You haven’t touched your phone in two months?”

“Eh, give or take.”

“Okay, Alana... as smart as you are, you’re a little bit of a dumbass.”

“I am, and I readily admit it!”

“See, now we’re not talking about... damnit.”

“...The rain?” Alana groaned, now reminded of the fact that her clothes were soaked through and her shoes were just a puddle of rainwater.

“...The rain,” Jared agreed slowly, and even in the basically nonexistent light Alana could see that he was just as soaked as she was.

“I probably have a pound of water in my hair,” Alana complained, taking a handful of her braids and squeezing them for full affect. A noisy splash of water came from them.

“Well, now you don’t. Pros of having boy hair... not so much water retention.”

“Yeah, good for you... I have to deal with this.”

“Yeah, well... maybe take the bandana off your wrist and tie your hair back?”

“Oh,” Alana responded eloquently. 

“What?”

It was silent, as Alana tried to decide what excuse to give. Probably there was no reason to panic over it... there was no way he’d be able to see the scar in the nonexistent light, and she could just cover it when they got to a lit area and it would be fine.

“Yeah, okay... bandana.”

Slowly, she untied the wet piece of fabric from her wrist as she kept walking, and she realized the trail turned and they were about to miss the turn and wander off the trail, so she grabbed Jared and pulled him to make the turn.

“Shit, did we almost miss that?”

“Yeah, guess so... keep sharp.”

“Roger that, double oh seven,” Jared made fun of her language use. Which was rude, it was just English like everything else she’d said... did that even make sense? Maybe the cold and rain was getting to her, and she shivered.

“We’re okay... we’ve gotta be about a mile and a half away... just click it off and in the blink of an eye we’ll be back.”

“Why did we seriously think we were going to hike this whole trail in the dark?”

“Well, it would’ve been much easier if there was a little more light and it was a little lighter... even a drizzle would be fine if the damn flashlight worked.”

“It’s so freaking cold now... I have a flannel wrapped around my waist but all it’s going to do is make me wrapped in wet and cold so I won’t bother putting it on,” Alana said, her shaking fingers finally undoing the four tight knots on the bandana and getting it off her wrist, leaving a weird, light feeling on it without the dead weight. 

She stopped for a moment and let go of Jared’s hand to take it and tie her hair back, taking an end with each hand, pulling it under her hair and then up, tying it slightly up, off her neck. One, two knots, a third for good measure. With that, she took Jared’s hand again.

“Better?”

“Slightly... it’d be better if I didn’t have the dead weight of a sopping wet flannel on the back of my legs.”

“My backpack’s actually keeping my back pretty dry, which is nice, but everywhere else for me is completely soaked.”

“Oh, well... half a mile, right?”

“Mile and a half,” Jared corrected.

“Half a mile, think about it as a really long half a mile.”

“Whatever floats your boat.”

“Hey, a boat wouldn’t be a bad idea... at this point, this trail is so flooded and there’s so many damn leaves..” Alana trailed off, realizing just how many leaves they were stomping through, and how few leaves there had been on the trail.

“We...”

“Aren’t on the trail,” Jared finished slowly.

Jared and Alana stopped walking and stood there for a moment in silence, mulling over their options in their own heads before vocalizing any of it. They... had wandered off the trail. Who knew how long ago... who knew how far off they were?

“So... head back the way we came?” Jared asked finally.

“I guess... I hope we can even find the way we came.”

“Don’t talk like that, Alana.. let’s just hope for the best.”

So the two turned around, took a moment to adjust themselves (Alana tightening the knot on her flannel around her waist, Jared adjusting his backpack), and the two headed back (hopefully) the way they came.

They realized now the fact that they were ankle deep in old fallen leaves, and they were now starting to bother them (or at least Alana) as they- she became hyper aware of them scraping against her ankles and in some spots, her calves.

“Damnit, I bet when we thought we were missing that turn...”

“We came off the trail,” Alana finished. Oh, lovely, now they were a couple who finished each other’s sentences... she couldn’t decide if that was cute or if she felt like she might throw up because oh my god, someone freaking loved her.

Someone loved her enough to not yell at her when it was her fault that the had wandered off the trail, like anyone else would’ve... nobody liked Alana anyway... just Jared, apparently.

“I’m sorry... because it’s my fault that we wandered off the trail, Jared.”

“No, it isn’t, we both thought that we were about to wander off the trail and miss a turn, and we both didn’t realize this whole time that we weren’t on the trail.”

“We haven’t been off the trail long... right?”

“Don’t think so?” 

They walked for awhile longer, without finding the trail again, which was just great... it was just perfect. She was going to be lost out here on the trail with Jared, who was nice and all, and they had food and maybe even water in Jared’s backpack that she was still abstaining from asking for because it’d mean they have to stop to get food out of his pack, but she didn’t need to be stopping for too long.

“Seriously, though... I’m really sorry that I said that we were missing a turn. We weren’t, it’s my fault... let’s just accept that?”

“How about we don’t?” Jared said. “Alana... I like you very much, but... first it’s that Trent didn’t rape you-“

“-Well, he didn’t-“

“-And now you’re blaming yourself for a mistake we both made... Alana, you have deep seated issues due to your parents neglecting you, huh?”

“Geez, okay, Therapist Jared.”

“I am not a therapist... I’m just saying. Your parents neglect you all your life and all you have is kinda your grandma and kinda your sister? You grew up with no parental presence... surely that does something to a person.”

“Are you considering being a therapist?”

“I’d be a terrible therapist... _you_ get nice Jared, but everyone else gets sarcastic class clown Jared, so like..”

“You’d be okay... you’d be one of those ones with weird ways to get your point across and help people... like that guy who has his patients shoot stuff with a nerf gun that I saw in one of those inspiring story YouTube videos?”

“You watch that crap?”

“When I’m very sad and depressed they make me feel both worse and better.”

“Well maybe don’t. And anyway, you’re changing the subject... you have issues.”

“And? Everyone has issues.”

“But damn... damn, Alana.”

“I have been lonely all my life... that does something to a person,” Alana admitted.

That was a hard thing for her to say... but Jared was listening. Jared cared. At this point... what worse could she say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see now usually im a big proponent of slow burn... but now we’re abt 15-16k into this 50k work and they’re already together, but listen... this was originally not even supposed to be this long so SHSHSHHHSHSHSHHHHHHH (besides there’s only 14 days of fic-time left in this)


	6. shake off all of your sins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana and Jared continue talking, and Jared gives Alana a revelation about her identity. Featuring, again, Alana’s racing thoughts because her brain just can’t leave her alone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big tws again for discussion of rape, abortion, drugs, suicide attempts, & parental neglect
> 
> listen listen listen i should’ve updated this sooner i kinda peaced out on that whole update schedule i made for myself so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“See, that’s what I’m saying... you had no parental presence and you were lonely... do you have friends?” Jared asked.

“I have you?” Alana let the end of her sentence drift up, like a question, though she wasn’t sure if it was or not.

“Okay, well... before the Connor Project..”

“I was on the girl’s basketball game when I lived closer to Buffalo, I was a Rensselaer Lion, I played point guard, and I was best friends with the small forward, Tabrett. Well, the other girls hated me, and then Tabrett’s crush, who was a football player, hit on me, and because middle school sucks, he told everyone that I hit on him and everyone believed him and not me, and Tabrett hated me for the rest of the season and then I didn’t bother trying out the next year... and I moved to New York in the middle of what would’ve been the season anyway.”

“Well... what can I say? Middle school sucks ass. But that... is a whole new level of backstabbing I’ve never heard of. I didn’t even know that middle schoolers were smart enough for that.”

“Our group of seven year olds was smart enough to put bananas all over the floor of someone’s cabin for people to step in and to steal eggs and egg a cabin in retaliation... I mean like... that’s pretty smart, and they’re in elementary school.”

“Elementary, my dear Alana... yeah, I dunno. Kids are weird... but that sucks.”

“It does! I’m aware. Do you wanna hear about what happened in New York?” Alana asked, a sarcastic voice that was almost giddy.

“Oh, boy! This sounds like a fun story!” Jared responded, matching her sarcastic giddiness.

“So my parents let me move in with them... I found out later that it was just to show me around to their rich friends, to say oh look at us, we have a daughter... and they ignored me otherwise. And my mom hit me when we were alone and she was pissed at me, and then they locked me in a laundry room during a dinner party and didn’t let me out until well into the next day, which was just _lovely_.”

“Jesus Christ, you have issues, Alana Beck!” Jared said, almost like a declaration.

“You know what I have that’s even better?!” Alana was smiling at this point... despite discussing abuse she was smiling and laughing.

“What do you have that’s even better?” Jared laughed.

“The trail! The fucking trail!”

They had found the trail... that beautiful, rocky, root-ridden trail. A beautiful trail, you didn’t know how good something was until you’d lost it, and now they had it back... and it was a lovely, lovely trail. Alana, though she felt like a small drowned animal, could’ve knelt down and kissed the muddy, puddly trail.

“God does have mercy!”

“He does! Jews for the win!” Alana said, laughing so hard now that she felt like she might pee her pants. It must’ve been the cold and wet getting to them.

“Jews for the win indeed!”

They laughed down the trail for awhile, longer than was probably considered ‘normal,’ but the cold and rain was basically making them drunk at this point. Sober who? They were cold and wet and shivering violently, they were drunk off their asses. They could’ve wandered right back off the trail, but somehow, they stayed on, stayed the course, even at one point for real almost missing a turn. They did briefly sober up, made sure it was a turn and not just them being stupid, but when they decided it was good, they pressed forward, and thankfully, didn’t wander off the trail.

Their comfortable shared silence lead to Alana going deep into thought, as most hikes and long silences did for her... and also, goddamnit, she was now someone’s _girlfriend._ Jared Kleinman... who would have thought?

Jared Kleinman... that asshole kid who had sold buttons when Connor Murphy died, that asshole kid who made school shooter jokes to and about Connor Murphy _before_ he died, and he... hadn’t even tried to be that Jared for Alana. Immediately, they’d bonded over autism, Judaism, seven year olds... just sitting at a picnic table, exhausted, on Parent’s Day. 

He joked around some, yeah, but... he was even aware, he’d said several times that only _she_ got Nice Jared, and she wondered if anyone else had ever gotten Nice Jared- she didn’t mean that in a mean way, a jealous way (she couldn’t be jealous of Jared; not only was her body incapable of being jealous like that, their relationship was roughly an hour or two old) she meant that... has anyone else ever seen the real, true Jared Kleinman? Was this even the real Jared.. or just another act? Or was his horrible asshole class clown thing not an act, and this was an act to some horrible malicious end?

 _Okay, chill, Alana_ , she thought to herself, reining in her anxiety before it went too far. 

Here she was, walking along a trail in pitch black darkness in a torrential downpour, overthinking about the boy who had been really sweet to her and nice, even if it was puzzling. If nothing else, she could communicate... but what if that turned him off, made him mad at her?

She could really never win with herself.

“Okay, question,” Alana finally said, fighting off a slight shake in her voice. “How come you’re ‘Nice Jared’ to me, but before this summer, and to anyone else, you’re just... Jared?”

“Well... that’s a good question, actually,” Jared said, pausing before he continued to think, though his feet kept moving. They couldn’t afford to stop on the trail, even during deep discussions like this was probably about to become.

“I think... I didn’t even try to be the Jared I put up for the world for you, at least not this summer,” Jared said softly, and Alana felt like she got a window into his soul that nobody else got... because behind all those walls, even behind the Nice Jared (who might just be the closest thing to Real Jared) she’d come to know, he was just a seventeen year old boy who was probably scared and hurting inside, just like the rest of them.

“Really? How come?” Alana asked slowly, choosing her words carefully, as if Jared was going to judge her for her words after giving her such an intimate look into who he was.

“Well... I... I don’t really know. Something about you, Alana... made me not even bother with the facade I put up for the world. I don’t know why now and not last school year, and I don’t know what it is that makes me drop the mask around you, but... I don’t know. Seriously... it’s just something about you.”

“Huh,” Alana said, because what else was there to say? What the hell did you say to that?

“I just... you can’t judge me for that,” Jared said quietly.

“Why would I? I’m just... curious. Especially since we’re... on a date?”

“Girlfriend, boyfriend, I would say, but a date works too... unless you don’t want to be girlfriend boyfriend.”

“Not like I have any other choices out here,” Alana joked, and immediately regretted it. Alana Beck did not _joke_ like that.

Before she could apologize, Jared laughed. “True... I think I’m a good enough only choice, anyway.”

“I think I am, for you, and you are, for me... if that makes sense.”

“Come on, don’t go Evan Hansen on me now, Alana... okay, this... I just realized. You aren’t the Alana you were last school year, either.”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t bother with your usual mask, this summer, either... actually, I think you have some of it still up, but you’re... you. The Alana I knew last school year was... endlessly cheerful, almost creepily so, except you had no real personality. You were everywhere and you were working so fucking hard constantly, but kept smiling the whole time... you were just a smiling Barbie President.”

Alana didn’t say anything for a long while, letting the only sound be the rain pouring down through the trees and branches, and the sound of their feet moving through the mud, a nice satisfying _squelch_ every time they took a step.

Because... how do you respond to that? Clearly, she hadn’t understood the weight of such an observation when she had posed it to Jared, and now here she was, shocked into silence.

Because he was _right._

She never would’ve talked about being autistic and Jewish to anyone else, especially nobody else she barely knew, she never would’ve candidly talked about her parents or anything at all except oh, how great schoolwork was, and oh, Mr. Webber’s assignment in health class, and oh, she was taking classes at the community college and oh her internships and oh she’d volunteered at the hospital and oh, and oh, and oh, she was so busy and doing everything... like a plastic Barbie President. 

Plastic, stuck in place, trying to do everything and getting somewhere but not really getting anywhere.

She was a plastic doll, and she was devoid of personality to anyone else... except fucking Jared Kleinman.

It wasn’t like anything before this (her suicide attempt, her abortion) had put anything into perspective and forced her to be open and unapologetically herself, to Sabrina Patel (who she barely had any contact with anymore; they’d peaked at their trip to Botswana and now she was doing summer courses at Princeton or some suit) to Dana P, who she only vaguely knew but made strides to be friendly with who was now going to attend LSU on a band scholarship... nothing post Connor Project but pre this summer and seeing Jared again had made her suddenly be unapologetically herself.

So what the fuck... why the fuck was she being herself for _Jared?_

Maybe it was just that he hadn’t even bothered to be someone else for her, and something in her clicked... or she realized how much they had in common subconsciously and her brain decided that she was done with torturing herself over having one emotion a month.

“Holy shit,” was all Alana could manage to get out.

“I blew your mind, huh?” Jared asked gently.

“Little bit, yeah...” Alana trailed off, still deep in thought, because really, _holy shit!_ Almost all her teenager years- probably ever since she’d had that horrible experience trying to live with her parents, she’d shut herself off, become _Alana Beck_ , plastic Barbie President, and not the _Alana_ she was inside... the _Alana_ she was for Jared.

Maybe it was a coping mechanism, because she’d let her guard down, hoping her parents would finally love her, and was brutally shot down, or maybe it was because she felt she had something to prove, and having an emotion- ever- would get in the way of that.

She hadn’t really let herself be angry at Evan when he went on GMA and talked about how hard doing all the work himself was... she hadn’t let herself be sad when her grandmother died. She just pressed on until she’d hit her breaking point- having sex, having a suicide attempt, and having an abortion just to nail in how fucking sad she was.

All of the emotions she’d pent up for years had come out in the spring, and now it was summer, and maybe it _was_ that... that she was too tired to be anything except for Alana anymore.

“You haven’t said much in the past ten minutes... you doing okay in there?” Jared asked, letting go of her hand for a moment to gently tap her temple. Alana smiled slightly, but quickly grabbed his hand back- after holding his hand for so long it felt weird not to hold it now. Her hand felt empty without his... which sounded like something out of some trashy, steamy romance novel that you bought in paperback at a thrift store, probably with Fabio on the cover.

“Just... thinking.”

“Well.. think out loud. Consider me rubber- everything you say bounces off of me. Except I’m listening... okay, bad metaphor.” Jared laughed at himself, and Alana contributed a few chuckles.

“Seriously? Because, Jared... my brain is a really messy place. You wouldn’t want to go in there.”

“We’re a couple now... like, I don’t expect to be instantly an amazing couple with no issues and we’ll get married and have four kids and a cat, but like, you can talk to me about what’s on your mind... I’m the one who triggered this thought trance for you, after all.”

“Well...” Alana started, and then realized, she was unsure where to actually _begin_ with this. Because, her mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and not actually knowing _what the fuck, actually_ , her mind was a tornado, a hurricane, all sorts of inclement weather going on. She had about five brain cells, and they were all panicking.

“Just whenever, whenever you collect your thoughts,” Jared said gently, coaxing her out of her mental gladiator match between thought after thought after thought. 

Her mind... was a horrible place.

But Jared was willing to take a peek into it.

She took a deep breath, and found a place to begin.

“I just... I guess I never realized I did that, but now that you point it out... _wow._ I really am President Barbie and nothing else... I’m thinking I started doing it after living with my parents failed.”

“Thank you for choosing to tell me this, by the way- okay this isn’t helpful but... I do want to say... it does mean a lot. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but since I’m only me for you, nobody else really confides in me.”

“Thank you for listening,” Alana said slowly.

“Alright, continue.”

Alana let them walk a few more feet, up to a landmark, and let her legs stop at it for a moment.

It was the Twisty Cedar, a nice old cedar tree that everyone carved a swirl into, thus giving it the name Twisty Cedar, not because it was actually a twisty tree (cedars tended not to be particularly twisty.) Names were written on it, years and years of history were carved into this tree, going over previous marks and slowly making it so eventually, one day, the tree would probably fall over, maybe crush someone, which was a very cheery thought.

But it was a landmark, and she stopped to breathe and to try to organize her thoughts at it. Jared stopped alongside her.

They only stood there for maybe thirty seconds, standing in silence and letting the rain slide over them, before Alana went ahead and decided that every moment sitting out here in the rain was stupid and should probably be avoided, when she could power through this and get to her cabin. So she took the lead, pulling Jared along by their still intertwined hands as they got back on the trail.

“You ever planning on being very emotionally intimate with me, or did my thanks ruin it?” Jared eventually asked, and _shit_ , she was hoping he’d just forget about it... which yes, was a pretty stupid and pretty unlikely thing, but this was Alana Beck... booksmart but world as a whole stupid.

“Oh, sorry... I just..”

“Take your time, just reminding you that I’m not going to forget about it.” Alana practically heard him smirk, and if she were white, her face would have been so red they would’ve had light to see from. Thankfully, she was not, and they remained in darkness.

Finally, Alana told herself that it was _okay_ , because unlike literally everyone else in the world... she felt she could trust Jared.

She didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, but the fact of the matter was that she trusted him, so what was the use in hesitating? No matter how much her high functioning anxiety said otherwise, he probably wasn’t going to judge her for whatever she said.

“My parents... you already know what they did to me. I already kinda opened up to you... but I laughed the whole time. And I really shouldn’t have... they locked me in the laundry room for a day and a half, and that’s not... okay. It hurt me. And after that... like you said! I have deep seated issues because of my father... and I think after I got out of there and went back to living with Jana and a nanny... I was different. I had bared my soul to people and let my guard down and they punished me... and I just wanted both to prove to them that i was someone but also never to let anyone do that to me again.”

“Woah...” Jared said quietly. “So it wasn’t just a hunch?”

“Jared... you and I both know it wasn’t a hunch. You made a good observation... you really should consider going into psychology.”

“I’m going to the University of Buffalo, and anyway, I cook some. Probably better than I therapist... I just... I guess I get you? My parents... aren’t the best either. But we’re talking about you.”

“We can talk about both of us, Jared, if I have to bare my soul, so do you,” Alana quietly reminded him.

“Okay, but, no offense, but you’ve already done far more baring than I have, not just of your soul...”

“Jared!” Alana couldn’t help but laugh, because damnit, that situation had sucked, and it was awkward... but in retrospect, it was weirdly fun. Which was weird, and she was weird, but what else was new?

“Alright, alright... so I can’t get out of this, huh?”

“You didn’t let me get out of this.”

“And I’m still not letting you get out of this... after we’re done talking about me we’re going right back to you.”

“Only if we’re not back at camp by then,” Alana smiled.

“Well, now you’re helping me stall.”

“Shit, sorry-“

“My parents suck, too, okay? I think i mentioned that already... but let’s mention it again! Yay! They’re divorced, my mom has main custody but she drinks some- wouldn’t call her a full on alcoholic but it isn’t great, she definitely has something of an issue, but the main problem is that she doesn’t parent... ever... she barely seems to know I exist. And my dad... actual drunk, occasionally tries and makes me play football with him, and when I fail miserably, he drinks more. The end, yay!”

Jared had said that whole thing in a cheerful voice, almost mocking it, like they’d done earlier when laughing and discussing how messed up Alana was... but she wasn’t standing for it this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapter endings are wonky af but listen... THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A ONESHOT DHSBDBJSDJBD. im legit just figuring out where i hit 3k ish and cutting it off about there because that’s where im at with life


	7. we are alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared and Alana finally get back to the camp, where, surprise surprise, they keep talking!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same tws as before: rape, abortion, suicide attempts, drugs, parental neglect, also a wee bit of gore, but again big tws, especially the suicide attempts one

“You can’t... I admitted that laughing about the shit I’ve gone through is wrong because it’s really shitty shit... shit. I’m not being eloquent, too many shits.. anyway!” Alana heard him begin to say something, but cut him off before he could cut _her_ off. “You can’t be all yay, happy, my parents are horrible people... let’s be real here. They’re horrible!”

“What kind of standard do i have to uphold, emotionally? Should I cry?”

Okay, shit, not the right move at all. 

“Okay... sorry... I shouldn’t police your emotions. Just... I don’t know.”

“Not going to get mad at you... but there was an unhealthy amount of that Barbie President Alana in what you just said. Not mad, just... pointing it out.”

That didn’t help. Because shit... if Jared wasn’t just special person who brought out the Alana in Alana, that meant she had to actually pay attention to how she was acting and make sure to choose her weapon (her actual personality or her Personality), and if she still let her horrible Barbie President self shine through with Jared on _accident_... shit, what did this all actually mean? She was so, so confused.

“I’m confused... I’m sorry. Why was I being horrible fake Alana for that bit?”

“Don’t know... just... I laugh to cope. That’s why when I’m being ‘Jared’ I make jokes to hide how tortured I am inside.” He punctuated his name with air quotes that Alana only realized existed because he let go of her hand to do it, and then took her hand back. “That’s how I cope... you cope by being plastic and devoid of any life.”

“Well, gee.”

They were again silent for awhile, both trying to figure out what to say, but also who’s turn it was to even say anything. Maybe Alana needed to continue, or it was really Jared’s turn to speak and be heard... who the fuck even knew?

Finally, finally, Alana chose to talk again. “Again, I’m sorry... I guess I shouldn’t tell you not to cope the way you cope. But... the whole facade thing is unhealthy... I should know.”

“I guess you should,” Jared said slowly. “I guess you do know... and maybe that’s why we vibe. We understand each other, and our brains decided to stop torturing ourselves and just vibe with someone for once in our lives.”

“That’s the same thing I thought.”

“Good... further vibing.”

“Anyway... you... you might as well keep talking about how shitty your life is, and I’ll listen. And not judge your coping mechanisms. Except... you judge my Barbie President stuff.”

“Yeah, because that shit’s way worse than me. You don’t let anyone see you... you’re just a plastic doll, and that’s- don’t kill me for saying this, but people can tell when someone’s being fake or weird... and your smiles when you’re like that are always too wide and really off-putting and unsettling. People don’t like unsettling... so they don’t hang out with unsettling girl. That’s not a great reason, because when you get to know Alana she’s actually really great, but if you never even want to know Alana...”

“No... that makes sense.” 

Just because it made sense didn’t make it hurt less... because damn, her whole coping mechanism so that nobody could hurt her so bad ever again had backfired and _helped_ , for sure, with the crushing loneliness she struggled with... the trade offs of staying protected inside walls was, apparently, never having anyone care about you or truly know you, nobody to care if you died tomorrow... and that hadn’t helped every time she’d tried to not exist anymore, because there was never the feeling, the _possibility_ that someone might find her laying in a pile of blood and actually help her. Get her help.

Instead, she’d had to pull herself out of those situations with nothing but pure spite against herself and her parents, even if she’d never say it out loud (not that there had ever been anyone to say it out loud to before, and with Jared, who knew? Maybe she’d say it out loud in a few minutes), she’d had to work on it herself and clean it up herself, stop the bleeding from her wrist herself.

“How low have you gone?” Alana asked suddenly, a little darkly.

“What do you mean?”

“If it’s not too prying- I mean, we’re having a pretty deep conversation right now, so like, just... what was your lowest point? How close to rock bottom have you hit?”

He paused for a moment before saying, “I had a panic attack. After the Connor Project thing happened and Evan and I fought and I realized I’d lost my only friend- even if he was an asshole it hurt like hell, and all of the work into this lie, the guilt caught up with me and I hyperventilated in my room for entirely too long, a wonder, really, that I didn’t pass out. That seems pretty pathetic, but... that was my lowest point. I knew how to coach Evan through them... but I’d never had one myself, and it was... not fun.

Alana almost laughed... because goddamnit, Jared had it _easy_. A panic attack was his lowest point? It seemed really insensitive, but she’d attempted suicide and gotten an abortion in the same week... she had attempted suicide multiple times. At thirteen, at fifteen, and then at sixteen, and before the most recent attempt she’d been raped, and the week after she convinced herself not to kill herself just to spite her parents even if she was so _tired_ of _everything_ and it almost physically hurt to be alive, when she’d had to clean up her own blood from the bathroom floor...

It was insensitive, because his low point mattered, and it sucked, but she had had panic attacks once or twice a week during the Connor Project, quiet ones in bathrooms (quiet because she couldn’t make noise and alert anyone to the fact that she was hurting), and he had only had one ever... her lowest point she couldn’t even pinpoint so exactly because she’d had so many low points that were so fucking low they were below rock bottom... they were into the core of the Earth, they were so low.

Alana did feel bad for being angry, but... how could she _not_ be? It did feel like a slap in the face- and Jared didn’t mean it, but... just... damn.

“If I’m understanding correctly, this is the part where you tell me _your_ lowest point?” Jared prompted her.

But Alana was solidly done now... she couldn’t hold it against him, but she also couldn’t tell him, because that would really be a bitch move. She’d listen to whatever he needed to be listened to about, but... she really had no right to be angry, but she was _angry_ and it _sucked._

Oh... she was having one of her one or two Emotions of the Month, if she was Barbie President... but she could be not a plastic doll and also still keep some things guarded... she hadn’t told Jared about her suicide attempt, or about her abortion... the rape part seemed like the least upsetting and ‘bad’ thing about her spring.

She could feel _some_ emotions... she had to. Otherwise, how could Jared love her?

Now that she had it, the selfish, affection starved part of Alana never wanted to let Jared go, even if it was the second week in July and camp was over the first week of August, and they only had that long to figure out what their future was, but... nobody else had ever held her hand, except nannies, a long, long time ago, while crossing the street with her. Nobody had held her hand and meant it... just Jared. Nobody had kissed her before, ever, and she was sure she had hugs and maybe even sharing a bed with him in her future, and... no matter how angry she was at him for things she couldn’t control, she couldn’t help but never want to let go of his hand, of his love.

She was so touch starved, it almost hurt... she couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her in a good way. Jana had quickly hugged her before she left Alana alone at the house on her eighteenth birthday, not even a nanny to keep her company and make sure her grocery shopping actually bought something besides crackers and a few apples, to take the checks that their parents still sent in the mail for them to pay with food and shit for (they paid the utilities and the mortgage on the house themselves), to make the house that was entirely too big for one person a little less huge.

Alana had lived alone since she was fourteen... and her parents hadn’t cared. They had dismissed the last nanny when Jana had turned sixteen, deeming her old enough to take care of matters herself, without the extra cost of a nanny every month, and she didn’t blame Jana for getting out of that as soon as she could... but it didn’t make it hurt less that Jana had left with a quick, loveless hug and the rest of that month’s check on the dining room table.

Before that... nobody had really touched her at all in years, honestly. Even nannies.. if they had touched her she didn’t ever remember it, that was for sure.

And here she was, being touched... she couldn’t let go of this. Or Jared.

But still... god, she was relieved when they reached the trailhead.

Where they had entered the trail.

They were _there._

“I’m going to grab food, for the both of us, how about you go into my cabin, grab me some clean clothes, and get yourself clothes, and then throw my clothes into the boy’s bathroom and I’ll shower after I get food?”

“Cool... that works,” Alana said, and just as she was finally exiting that goddamn horrible trail, she tripped on one last rock and landed face first in a mud puddle. What was she, a cartoon character? Not even knees first and then to her face, not even landing on her side... _face down_ into the mud.

She laid in it for a minute, letting her brain catch up to her body and her body catch up to her brain before the realization hit that she was face down in a mud puddle, and Jared was laughing at her.

Alana sat up slowly, pulling her face out of the mud, and Jared, still laughing, grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

“Okay... you just go shower, I’ll throw you some clothes while you’re in the shower so there won’t be any walking around in just a tower, and then I’ll shower myself, and _then_ I’ll go get food, okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Alana said, now violently shivering. The rain had been cold this whole time, and she’d had goosebumps for hours, but now that she’d landed face down in a freezing cold mud puddle and gotten absolutely drenched? Yeah, no, she was shaking so hard you could put a blender on her head and make a nice fruit smoothie.

“Alright, let’s go,” Jared said, taking up her hand in his again, filling that strange emptiness she got when he let go of her, and helping Alana along, understanding that she was now definitely not in the mood for some deep philosophical conversation about feelings on the way to the bathhouse, and also that she was freaking _cold._

Luckily, the trailhead was pretty close to their ring of cabins, the seven to ten year olds cabins, girls cabins on the west side of the ring, boys cabins on the east, four cabins on each side, and a bathhouse in the middle. 

“Don’t even go in your cabin, I’ll put clothes in bag for you, cover my eyes, and put it as close to the showers as I can,” Jared instructed, and Alana just nodded and broke off from him as soon as she had to, hurrying her skinny, goosebumped legs to the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was a island and paradise of light, of dryness, of a little bit of warmth- none of the cabins or bathhouses had air conditioning or heating, other than the administrative cabins and the main dining hall, but just the fact that it was enclosed from the wind and rain helped immediately. Even better... nobody was in there.

She grabbed a towel, and headed to the curtained off area, sitting on the bench opposite the four shower stalls, each with their own curtain, and slowly took off her shoes, pulled off her socks slowly, marveling at how wrinkled and horrible the bottoms of her feet were, and then came off her shirt, sports bra, shorts, and then she wrapped in the towel when she heard the door open.

“Alana?” Jared called, his voice echoing a bit.

“Just throw it at the curtain and run,” Alana told him, and she heard him tie the bag and throw it, and the bottom of the curtain jutted out where the bag was pressing into it.

Finally, Alana got showered and clean, standing under the hot stream of water for longer than she was supposed to and not caring a single bit, and _oh_ , dry, clean clothes, her purple and black and grey and white plaid pajama pants, clean underwear, a clean Raccoon Cabin tee, clean socks and her red flip flops (she didn’t exactly have another set of sneakers, and she wasn’t willing to wear her muddy shoes back to the cabin or, god forbid, go barefoot, so even though she’d be wearing socks and sandals, the gesture was appreciated.) He’d even included a bra, which she didn’t wear, because she was over this.

Muddy clothes and shoes went into the plastic bag, and Alana walked carefully but quickly back to her cabin, unfortunately the furthest one from the bathhouse.

Somehow, Jared had not only managed to get showered while she was showering, but also grabbed food for the both of them- reheated quiche, that morning’s breakfast, but she didn’t care, because it was something warm and it was a food product, and he’d brought over several blankets.

The two silently sat on Alana’s bed and dug in after a half-moaned _“Thank you,”_ from Alana, and for a blissful ten minutes or so, the two just got to eat, no deep conversations, no walking through muddy trails and being in the cold and rain, just them and _food._

Finally, Alana set her plastic plate and fork down on the floor and flopped onto her back on her bed, that was never comfortable but always passable, but today was really fucking good, because she was off her feet, decently warm, and in good company.

Jared threw a blanket over her, and with how exhausted she was, she considered simply going to sleep right there and then, but decided against it, no matter how tired she was, because there was stuff that needed to be said.

“So, we’re boyfriend girlfriend, which I really, really like, but... camp is only three more weeks, and then we’re out and we go to college. What happens then?” Alana asked, propping herself up on her elbow and looking up at him expectantly.

He took a few moments to answer, and now, in the light, she could see his face subtly tense up in thought. “What if we... don’t talk about it until our last week? Just focus on enjoying the time we currently have... and also, I’ve had enough of deep discussions today, haven’t you?”

“Yeah... but it is important.”

“Trust me, I’m not saying that it isn’t, but...”

“We are tired... okay. I’m not usually one for procrastinating, I’m more of an eat the frog to prove something to someone person, but, I’m tired enough not to protest. We will not eat the frog, we will discuss it later.”

“For now.. we just enjoy it. Do our counselor things, do a kickass job at it, and then the last week, we actually sit down and have a conversation. Until then, we just pretend that summer never ends and that we have all the time in the world... no need to rush shit.”

“Just with the looming doom and existential threat of summer ending hanging over us like a dark storm cloud?”

“Sure.”

Alana sat up slightly, moving from just having her head up on her elbow to holding up her body in a reclined but not all the way down position, with both elbows behind her torso, holding up her weight so she could get a better look at Jared for the next part.

“We also... do have to talk about, like... relationship rules, I guess.”

“Relationship rules... what do you mean?”

“Well, like... you can’t go parading me around and saying I’m your girlfriend... you can hold my hand all you want, and you also can’t hold the fact that I’m your girlfriend over my head so you have control over me, like, saying ‘well since you’re my _girlfriend_ we have to..’ whatever.”

“Okay, makes sense,” Jared said, leaning down to set his plate down on the floor, stacking it with Alana’s, and then leaned back up and scooched over next to her. It was a little bit shadowy under her bunk, especially with the curtain half pulled, blocking some of the lights that were already pretty dim and yellowish, but she could see his face, and his kind brown eyes, and the way he looked at her.

He looked at her like he understood, like he got her... like he _loved_ her... which was a fucking gift. She would never get over that look in his eyes, and yeah, part of it was that she’d never known what it was like to be _loved_ up until now, but also, just... it really was a wonderful look, and it made her feel warm inside.

“I guess... same for me, no parading- I’m not big on PDA, I think it’s gross, because you consented to being kissed if we’re PDA-ing but everyone else didn’t.”

“I think that reasoning is more generally used to tell BDSM couples not to do public scenes, but yeah, I get what you’re going for.”

Jared laughed, and god, she couldn’t get over that, either. His laugh... sweet, made her feel like laughing. It made her feel like smiling, because she felt how happy he was, how he did find that funny. And that was really, really nice. 

Jared Kleinman... maybe she would only date him for three weeks and they’d have a messy breakup because they were both scared of long distance, but for those three weeks... it was going to be the best three weeks of her life. Because he made her _happy_ , and nobody else, not even herself, could do that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this fic is mostly just them talking. do i care? nah


	8. and im like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They... keep... talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same tws: suicide attempts, rape, abortion, drugs, parental neglect

“Alright, well, no PDA, hand holding I’m okay with- also, no pet names?” Jared continued. “Pet names piss me off... I do _not_ want to be your Jare-bear. I would rather die.”

That made Alana laugh, and she hated her laugh; it was quiet and weird and sounded off, probably because she barely used it, it was only a half step down from her fake laugh she used when she was being Barbie President. But... Jared smiled down at her... so maybe it wasn’t so bad. If it made him happy (and if he wasn’t faking it just to make her feel better) then she could live with it.

“Okay, same... no pet names. Actually... I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to call you babe, but I actually don’t know if it’s a pet name? Does it qualify?”

“Okay, babe is actually good, and if you don’t want to call me babe, then I’ll call you babe, maybe not in public- if that’s okay.”

“That works.”

“Alright, otherwise- not even honey, not sweetheart, and especially not Pookie.”

“Okay, Joanne.” 

“I am a Mark Cohen and you know it.”

“Well, I’m no Maureen, so go fish.”

Jared’s smile... god. She could never get enough of his goddamn smile, the way his eyes lit up and the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly... she could talk about his face and his smile and the way they looked together for hours. Days, maybe.

“Okay, so, no pet names except babe which I’m not even sure is a pet name, no PDA, no holding over the other that we’re boyfriend girlfriend... uhh..” Alana tried to think of anything else to add.

“And neither of us have any obligation to consummate our union while we’re together,” Jared added.

“Seriously? Consummate? That’s the word we’re using?” 

“Yes... the point is that we _can_ have sex if we both decide to, but you should not be pressured to, uh, seal the deal with me if you don’t want to. If we both decide to and you’re not just doing it because you want to make me feel better about my life, we talk about what we’re gonna do before we actually get down and dirty, but... yeah. Catch my drift?”

“Yeah... I guess I do. Thank you for that,” Alana said slowly.

“I just... I don’t want you to feel like you _have to_ have sex with me. I would love to have sex with you, but... I do not need to, and if you don’t want to, I don’t want to. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright, any other rules?”

Alana mulled over it for a bit... for now, what they had covered their bases. At least, she thought so.

“I think that’s good enough for now, I can’t think of anything else... we can evaluate later if we decide we need new rules.”

“I can’t think of anything else, either, so... now what, then?”

Alana again thought for a bit, and... couldn’t really come up with anything. She was too tired (and inexperienced) to suggest making out, as much as the thought intrigued her, and she was honestly a little bit tired of talking after all the deep conversations and horrible realizations of the night, and the rain certainly didn’t help.

“I don’t... really know... I mean, I’m tired.”

“We can do whatever we want... no kids until tomorrow morning.”

“That sounded suggestive, but I’m too tired for suggestive.” At this point, Alana was falling asleep, now having gotten back down, laying completely on her back and looking up at Jared.

“Honestly, same,” Jared agreed, flopping down next to her, allowing Alana the view of the bed above her rather than the far superior one of Jared’s face. A tragedy, really.

“Alright, then... what _do_ we do?”

“Sleep? Talk? Lay here and contemplate mortality?”

“Ugh, I had enough contemplation today already, enough philosophical shit. I’m going to be a doctor, but I’m not going into psych for a reason.”

“Oh? Then what are you going into?”

“Surgical, for sure... probably specializing in either peds, neuro, or cardio.”

“Listen... I only know what you’re talking about because I watch Grey’s Anatomy. Religiously.”

“Good for you... never seen it, myself.”

Jared faked a gasp. “An absolute pinnacle of television, and you haven’t seen it?”

“I’ve seen a few episodes of Chicago Med, but that was because I literally had nothing else to do that day.”

“Good grief, Alana, you want to be a surgeon and you’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy?”

“I’ve read Gray’s Anatomy, the book, with an A instead of an E,” Alana volunteered.

“God, I’m sorry, I know you’re a very sad individual, but damnit, that’s fucking sad, Alana.”

Alana laughed, at herself more than Jared, because yeah, she was a sad individual. “I don’t even own a fucking TV, Jared, or a Netflix subscription... I watched Chicago Med in a doctor’s office.”

“Damn, Alana... also, whenever I go to the doctor, they’re always playing PBS kids, what goddamn good kush doctor are you going to? Fancy pants dermatologist?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alana lied, because in actuality, she had been sitting in a Planned Parenthood, waiting to get a D&C because she had waited too long to abort with a pill.

“Your skin is really nice... guess whatever your dermatologist gave you was good.”

“Yeah...”

Alana felt a little bit bad for the lie, but so far, she hadn’t told Jared about the fact that she’d gotten an abortion or that she’d tried to kill herself, and she felt ashamed of those facts- even if she’d told him about when she got raped, she preferred to keep some things private, to herself. It was on her that she’d tried to un-life, it was on her that she’d un-fetused. And she didn’t want him to know.

It really was stupid at this point, because he hadn’t judged her for getting raped- far from it. She judged herself for getting raped more than he did, and it was... sad. She was a sad, sad individual.

And tired... as much as the talking to Jared was fun when it wasn’t deep and tiring, she was still completely worn out, and now she was laying down with a blanket over her, and despite her best efforts, she was starting to drift off.

Even though she was fighting off sleep, she volunteered, “So you’re doing an undecided major... what classes are you taking?”

“Ah, just a little bit of everything... whatever’s required for my major, some cooking classes, because that’s the one damn thing I think I’m actually almost good at, and, uh... whatever. I don’t really remember what classes I picked, I’ll just go wherever my schedule tells me to.”

“Mmm... gotcha.”

“And you? All science and math shit?”

“Well... I’m actually taking a dance class and a few other ones that I don’t really need and maybe aren’t very science oriented... I mean it’s a chemistry degree, but like... yeah.”

“Jesus, are you tired?”

“Little bit,” Alana admitted, letting her eyes blissfully close for a few seconds. It took _effort_ to open them back up.

“Alright... go to sleep. We’re tired, it’s decently late, and we’re teenagers, we have plenty of time to be hyper and have boundless energy later. You want me to stay, or...?”

“You can stay,” Alana said, and Jared wordlessly got up, and she rolled over to watch him as he set their plates on a shelf next to the door, and turned out the lights.

He climbed back into bed with her, Alana taking the outer side of the bed, Jared on the inside. Alana was much smaller, even as skinny as Jared was, so she could really fit either way, but both of them on the small, generally uncomfortable camp mattress was a little bit weird and a tiny bit cramped, the two of them taking a few minutes to arrange themselves in a way that was comfortable- for both of them and both of their expectations of what was comfortable for the other one.

Finally, they settled into some sort of position, Alana still on the outside, squished a little bit into the ladder, but what Jared didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, and they left a few inches of space between them, because they weren’t exactly ready to start all out cuddling... Alana didn’t know how romantic relationships worked but she knew she wasn’t going to move to whatever base that was quite _that_ fast... their relationship was barely four hours old. Alana hadn’t even ever slept in the same bed with someone in this way.

“You comfortable?” Jared asked in a hushed voice.

“Yeah... I’m good... actually, wait.” The porch light was still on, and shining annoyingly through the window, right in her face, and since Alana didn’t feel like getting up to turn it off, she sat up and pulled the curtain around the bed, which for sure helped.

“Okay, much better,” Jared said as Alana laid back down next to him, carefully making sure she retained the two or three inches of space between them. Like the Mason Dixon Line... like a chastity belt. _The Chastity Belt._

And finally, finally, even though she was initially stiff and making sure to retain that line between them, eventually she was too tired to stay all stiff and plastic-y, and relaxed, finally finally _finally_ , she fell asleep.

_____________

Alana was, evidently, _tired._

Completely drained from the previous day, Alana didn’t wake up until 9am, which was kinda bad, because not only was Jared already gone, there were a bunch of seven year olds jumping around the cabin now, including some jumping on her bed, which was just _wonderful_ to wake up to, Zuri and Kristy jumping on her bed and shaking her.

“Ugh, good morning,” Alana groaned, giving up on sleeping and sitting up slowly, blinking her eyes open to look at the two girl’s hopeful faces.

“Lanaaaaaaaaa, it’s morning!” Zuri squealed, like that was a _good_ thing. She was a really cute kid, big brown eyes, warm brown skin, shoulder length braids click clacking around with big, colorful plastic butterfly beads on the ends every time she moved her head. But she had woken her up, so she was kinda not pleased to see her face.

“I see,” Alana said, reaching to the shelf next to her bed and grabbing her glasses, rubbing her eyes with them in hand before putting the fuckers on her face, and yeah, that was a lot better.

“Come _on_ , Alana, we get to go to the arts and crafts cabin today!” Kristy whined, grabbing her arm and shaking it.

“Okay, okay... give me a few minutes to get dressed, and then we’ll head down there, okay?”

A chorus of “Yay!” went up among her campers, and Alana smiled, shaking her head, and playfully pushed Zuri and Kristy off her bed so she could pull the curtain and get dressed.

As Kristy slid off, Alana saw something she’d been sitting on, that wasn’t a blanket or a stray sock... it was a piece of paper.

She pulled the curtain and before she actually got dressed, unfolded the paper.

And _oh_ , what had she done to be so lucky to get Jared?

It was a note, from him... simple, short, but the fucking thought that he’d put into it _alone_ , that he’d thought to leave her a sweet little note when he’d had to leave.

And not only that... 

_I have to go collect my feral seven year olds, you’re still asleep, but I’m going to collect yours and drop them off at your cabin, they’ve been fed, I’m pretty sure. Sorry that you’re going to wake up to a gaggle of seven year old girls, good luck, I guess. I’ll try and talk to you later, I think I’m taking the boys to do archery or some shit... if I don’t die, I’ll talk to you, anyway._

_\- Jared_

He had taken the time to go collect her kids- to go take on twice as many kids for the walk from the dining hall back to the cabin, he... she was touched, honestly. What the fuck had she done to be so goddamn lucky as to get him for a boyfriend? 

She could never thank him enough for this simple, small act... he’d let her have a few more minutes of sleep and done something that was technically her responsibility. And she shouldn’t be this touched about it, but seriously... nobody ever randomly did nice things for her. Alana didn’t know how to fucking deal with this.

But she got into fresh clothes that weren’t pajamas, are a quick granola bar on the way to the arts and crafts cabin, and pretended to have fun while sitting through hours of the girls gluing and cutting to make summer themed centerpieces for tables, because that was a craft, apparently. 

Alana didn’t know... she smiled and laughed and told them all that oh, they were very nice, but 1) why the fuck were they making summer themed centerpieces and 2) her mind was in other places... she was still half asleep and she was also daydreaming like a love stricken teenager about Jared. Technically... she _was_ a love stricken teenager. God... she was every other little sixteen yea old, and maybe it was good not to be emotionless plastic President Barbie, as Jared had so eloquently coined her, but... what was she now if her one emotion that she did get to have was puppy love?

But finally, arts and crafts wrapped up, and they went and got lunch in the dining hall, sitting at their designated table, marked with purple duct tape with _Raccoon_ scrawled across it. They got to chow down on sandwiches, and then it was Alana’s favorite part of the day, a part of the day only the seven year old cabins got, on Mondays and Thursdays, and since today was a Monday... it was _nap time._

Well, technically, it was called _quiet time_ , and the eight and nine year olds had it too, but the difference was that the seven year olds, at least in her cabin, treated it as nap time. From 2 PM to 4 PM, she was blissfully off her feet, with seven year olds blissfully asleep and not being tiring. And, it meant that once they fell asleep and the boys in Jared’s cabin fell asleep... she could sneak over to the flagpole in the middle of this ring of cabins and meet Jared there, hopefully catch him in his sneaking over to her cabin.

God, she was head over heels for him, and absolutely loving it. Loving _him._

She reminded herself that this wouldn’t last, that the honeymoon phase would eventually end, thank god, but for now... she was sickeningly in love. Jared was just... so fucking amazing in every single possible way. He wasn’t perfect, but was anyone? And anyway, she didn’t need perfect... she just needed Jared. 

While the temptation to just take a nap herself during nap time was certainly present, she remained awake, pouring over a textbook that she had brought to camp to read for fun. Yes, she was that sad of an individual, but it was a book she was supposed to read in medical school, which meant it was interesting and she was genuinely having fun pouring over it... so much so that she looked down at it, and when she finally looked back up, everyone was asleep and it was already 2:20.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW THAT SCENE IS DONE PRAISE JESUS. shorter chapter cause this is where i felt like cutting it off


End file.
